


In Love And Death We Don´t Decide

by zwischenimmerundnie



Category: Call Me By Your Name (2017) RPF
Genre: Angst, Boss/Employee Relationship, College Student, Fluff, M/M, Marketing Company, Mutual Pining, Slow Burn, Smut, graphic design
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-11-01
Updated: 2021-03-08
Packaged: 2021-03-09 04:41:13
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 20
Words: 107,510
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27328969
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/zwischenimmerundnie/pseuds/zwischenimmerundnie
Summary: Amid the most important job interview of his life, which might grant him a spot at one of the biggest and most important Graphic Design and Marketing agencies in the state, Timothée finds out the consequences of a reckless one night stand might be more complicated than he initially thought.
Relationships: Timothée Chalamet/Armie Hammer
Comments: 382
Kudos: 450





	1. My Favorite Kind Of Night

**Author's Note:**

> A brand new adventure starts and I´m very excited to have you guys with me throughout this. I hope you enjoy it :)

The bar is crowded, most of its clients are college kids who are either trying to forget about the stress of yet another week of school work that approaches, or catch up with their friends amid a couple of drinks, which to many is the perfect way to end a cold September weekend. Dozen drinks hit the bar´s counter, people desperately trying to get the bartender's attention, while they divide themselves into preparing over three or four drinks all at once. 

There's music playing, but gladly not loud enough to disrupt any kind of conversation and although most of the clients couldn't care less about food, there's a variety of appetizers available, perfect to have it along with the drinks. In one particular table, three friends are seated, laughter and drinks rolling free. One of the guys has a big afro, his black eyes wide and kind; the woman has long orange hair that falls down her exposed pale shoulders. The other guy, who seems to be the most enthusiastic of the three, has dark curly hair, deep green eyes and fair skin. 

"...so, when is that interview you are so freaking excited about?," the woman asks, leaning back against her seat, a drink in her hand.

"Tomorrow afternoon," he quickly replies. "I'll go as soon as classes are over."

"You think you can get it?"

“I have all the required skills for the job, the only downside might be the fact I'm still in college, but if they don't pay much attention to that, yeah, I think I'm pretty damn good for the job.”

"And you can always woo them with your pretty green eyes," she mocks, winking at him.

"Chloe, are you insinuating I should hit on whoever is interviewing me?"

"I don´t mean for you to throw yourself at them, but just be your best flirty self, while still maintaining some dignity and maybe you can score some points there."

"Is that how you got your job at the bookstore?," their friend asks, earning a punch on his arm from Chloe. "Ouch."

"This is for implying I might have thrown myself at Mr. Sanders, a seventy year old man, who treats me as if I was his own granddaughter."

"You were the one who said Timothée should be flirty," he explains, shrugging his shoulders. "I thought that you might have used this tactic sometime too."

"Well, Jackson, I hate to burst your bubble, but I haven´t."

Timothée chuckles, his eyes moving from Jackson to Chloe, who have a relationship similar to most siblings he has seen in his life, including his own experience.

"Anyway," he says through chuckles, catching his friends attention. “This job would be a dream come true, so I really hope I can get it.”

"Dude, you´re smart and eager, they will see you got what it takes."

"Jack is right," Chloe assures him, a kind hand laying on his shoulder. "Besides, the fact you haven´t yet graduated shouldn't be that important when you have such an incredible portfolio and degrees from courses in the field. You should be fine, so don´t worry much about it."

"I hope you´re right," he smiles, bites his lip and glances around the bar, his eyes falling on some familiar faces. He waves at some people, nods in the direction of some of his classmates and then looks back at the bar, that seems surprisingly less hectic. "I´m gonna go get myself another drink, you guys want anything?"

"I'm fine."

"Me too, thanks."

"I'll be back in a minute."

"You probably won't," Chloe shouts as he shakes his head and pushes himself up from the chair. He squishes himself through the crowd, being careful not to bump on anyone or have anything spilled on him; the last thing he needs is to go home with damp clothes and itchy because someone dropped a freaking drink on him.

He leans against the counter, waits until the bartender finally gives him some attention and orders a beer, his fingers tapping on the wooden counter. He sighs, reaches for his phone and unlocks it, going through a few of his messages before opening Grindr, narrow eyes as he brings the phone closer, taking a better look at the photos that appear on the screen.

He stops at some random dude, who´s photo shows more of his abs and pelvis than face, but that is the usual thing he sees on that goddamn app, so he tries not to dwell much on that. He bites his lip, debating on what to do, but is interrupted by the bartender, who slides his beer over at him. Timothée thanks him, turns around and leans his back against the counter, eyes scanning around the club as he takes a few sips.

"Can I get a Heineken, please?"

The voice that comes from Timothée´s right is deep, hoarse and sexy, which causes Timothée to glance straight up, his green eyes roaming down the man's body. He licks his lip once he realizes he has gotten a glimpse of the guy when he first got there, but sadly didn't have the chance to get a closer look until now.

He's got short blond hair, lengthy enough for him to grip on it, a bit of a stubble and deep blue eyes, his jaw and nose perfectly sculpted. Timothée noticed he was tall, but from up close he realizes just how tall the man truly is, his strong arms highlighted by the tightness of the shirt he is using. As his eyes fall down to his ass, which would leave most women jealous, Timothée can´t help but think how great he would look completely naked.

"May I help you?"

"Huh," Timothée hums, raising his eyes so he can look the man in the face.

"Can I help you with something?"

"Oh trust me, you´re doing enough."

The man scoffs, shaking his head as he reaches for the beer. He takes a few sips, licking his lips afterwards before his bright blue eyes fall down on Timothée once more.

"Having any luck with that?"

The man´s question catches Timothée off guard and he frowns in confusion before his eyes fall down on his phone, a cheeky grin on his lips as he realizes his phone is in full display of the stranger and Grindr is still open.

"Not really," he shrugs. "But the night is still young and I can certainly change that around. Don´t you think?"

The stranger shrugs, turns around and leans his elbows against the wooden counter, blue eyes scanning the crowd as he sips on his cold beer.

"It depends on what you're looking for."

"I'm a simple guy, and will take anyone who knows what they are doing."

"Just that?"

"Is not as easy as you may think. Most of the guys like to pretend they know how to do things, but often they are just trying too hard to look cool."

"And you're not?"

Timothée licks his lips and then smacks them together.

"I don't have to."

* * *

  
  
  


The bathroom door slams close and Timothée is pressed against it shortly after, his breathing altered, his face flushed and his hands roaming aimlessly through the stranger´s back. The man, who he now knows to be called Armie, has his large hands holding tight onto his slim waist, his sweet and soft lips laying kisses down his neck and shoulder.

Timothée feels his whole body heating up, his legs slightly wobbly as he slides his hands down the man's back, taking a tight hold of his ass, which he squeezes in his hand. He can feel his cock pressed against him, and the hardness of it surprises Timothée, but no more than the length and girth of it. It´s been a while since he found himself a man that could fill him up good, so he was more than ready to get things going, to drop down to his knees and feel the weight of that cock in his hand.

He gasps when Armie nibbles on his earlobe, his large hand sliding down in between them and cupping him through his jeans, rubbing his hard cock, which by now is begging to be set free. He rubs his hands against Armie´s beard and slides his finger through his hair, drags his nails down his neck and then pulls him back to a heated kiss, their tongues moving together, exploring each other´s mouth as if seeking for water in the desert.

Timothée hooks a leg over his hip, thrusts his hip forward to grind their cocks together, moans through the kiss when the friction causes a few drops of precum to ooze out of his slit. God, it's been ages since he felt so horny and so ready to give himself up to someone, even if the person was a complete stranger.

A squeak escapes him when Armie maneuvers him as if he was a plastic doll, with absolutely no effort. He presses him against the marble sink, grabs onto his hair and yanks his head back, smirking when Timothée closes his eyes and parts his lips, his body shivering from head to toe with the sudden move.

He reaches out for Armie´s pants, working on the button and zipper as fast as humanly possible, his hands pushing the jeans down his thick thighs. Timothée´s truly impressed at how everything about this man is so arousing and sexy; he looks like a Greek statue that came to life, his piercing blue eyes so beautiful and inviting, Timothée often feels like he is being hypnotized.

He loses his train of thought when Armie grips onto his pants and swiftly pulls them down to his ankles, his hands, which are warm and incredible smooth, feeling up his pelvis, his thighs and brushing gently against his balls and cock, teasing Timothée until he moans softly and bites onto his quivering lips.

Their eyes meet and Timothée almost loses all of his balance, his mouth suddenly going dry and an intense shiver running down his spine. Armie´s eyes are filled with lust and hunger, the stare of someone who is desperate to claim in, mark his territory. And fuck, Timothée will let him do whatever the hell he wants, mark him as much as he would like. 

He closes his eyes, throws his head back and produces a high pitched moan that seems to send a signal directly to Armie´s cock, because he immediately grunts and forces his hand on Timothée´s shoulder. Without the need to actually hear anything, Timothée simply drops down to his knees and takes a tight hold of Armie´s cock, his thumb stroking close to the base.

He smiles proudly when Armie hisses, leans against the marble sink and tries to catch his breath, his throbbing cock so meaty and inviting. Timothée takes his tongue out, flips it through the bulbous head, tastes the salty precum and moans softly, allowing himself to savor the taste before he takes the cock past his lips and inside his mouth.

Armie turns out to be quite vocal, his grunts increasing its tone with each passing second, his grip on Timothée´s hair tightening when he feeds him even more of his cock, fucking his face relentlessly. And Timothée, who can´t help but tug on his cock, accepts the face fuck as if it was his destiny. He takes almost all of Armie´s cock in his mouth, sucks him with eagerness, flicks the tongue across the head from time to time, moaning along with Armie.

His jaw hurts when Armie takes his cock out of his mouth and grabs onto his arms, pulling him up and turning him around, forcing him to bend over the cold sink. Timothée smiles at his reflection in the mirror, finds Armie´s eyes and smirks, the hunger in his eyes only growing. He yelps when he slaps his asscheek, holds himself up and parts his legs when a finger gently slides down his crack and pokes his hole.

He bites hard on his lip, pushes his ass towards Armie´s touch and nearly loses his balance and breath when something wet and cold probes his hole. He closes his eyes, a smile spreading across his lips as Armie´s tongue wonderfully laps and pokes his hole, making sure Timothée experiences one his best rim jobs. His stubble against his smooth skin burns, but it's such an incredible sensation, Timothée wishes he had a full beard.

Reaching back, Timothée holds onto Armie´s head with one hand, his moans increasing, his body heating up to the point it seems as if he has just caught himself on fire. He leans his forehead against his forearm, trying to catch his breath, but finds it nearly futile. His whole body is responding to Armie´s touch, his cock dripping precum onto the floor as his legs tremble.

He whines when the feeling goes away and glances over his shoulder, about to protest when Armie rubs his cock against his cheeks, he heat and throbbing of it nearly driving him insane. He hears the sound of a package ripping, the sound of the latex and then, much to his pleasure, the head pokes through his puckered hole, causing him to moan.

Timothée gasps, a little chuckle escaping him when Armie pushes more of his cock inside. He savors every second of it, feeling himself fill up, the cock inside of him so good, hitting all the right spots and nearly causing him to roll his eyes to the back of his head. He truly never felt so full in his life, but he absolutely loves every single second of it, specially how merciless Armie is, fucking him with all his might, their skin slapping against one another, sweat dripping down their bodies.

Ad fuck, he imediately knows he is going to need more of this guy in his life, because there is no way he can live with the idea of never getting that cock again. But since he knows most of his hook ups hardly ever last more than one night, Timothée takes advantage of every second, moaning and grunting every time Armie thrusts into him.

He matches his thrusts eventually, biting his lip when Armie hits the perfect spot repeatedly, the muscles of his body all turning soft, his legs buckling and his breath labored. His cock starts to throb, his balls tighten and without even touching himself, Timothée cums all over the bathroom floor, a loud moan escaping him.

He grips onto the marble sink when Armie keeps up with his thrusts, his hands holding tight onto his hips as he pushes his cock all the way in, his orgasm washing over him as he cums inside the condom. And as filthy as it may be, Timothée is slightly disappointed he is actually wearing one, because he sure would love to feel his warm cum fill up his insides.

Timothée waits a few seconds before turning back around, he leans back against the sink and licks his lips, his gaze running down Armie´s body. He smacks his lips together when his eyes fall upon his cock, watching as he takes off his condom and throws on the garbage can. Such an act should not be seen as sexy, but Timothée simply can´t help himself.

He looks Armie in the eyes, a lazy smile spreading across his lips as Armie steps closer, a hand sliding down his hair and pulling his face close so he can press a soft kiss upon his lips. He cups his cock, gives it a couple of strokes and smirks when Armie shakes his head, taking a step back.

Once they have cleaned themselves and put their clothes back in order, Timothée sighs, feeling his body slowly come down from its high. Armie hooks a finger into his belt loop, pulls him closer and kisses him once again, slipping something onto his back pocket.

Seconds after that, Timothée is watching as Armie walks out of the bathroom, his fingers running through his curls, his smile nearly impossible to control. He reaches for his back pocket, unfolds the napkin and sees not only Armie´s name written there, but also a phone number right below it. He smirks, folds the napkin and stuffs it back in his pocket _ , _ taking one deep breath before making out of the bathroom himself.

* * *

  
  
  


Waking up is hard, his body is spent and his head is pounding, remaintments of all the booze he had the previous night. With a groan, Timothée pushes himself up, frowning as the sunlight comes in through the large window of his bedroom. He yawns, scratches his hair and then pushes himself up, dragging his naked body around the bedroom and over to the bathroom, where clothes from the previous night are scattered around the floor.

He gets in the shower, the cold water cascading down his body and washing away any trace of sleep left in him. He rolls his shoulders, stretches out his arms and then quickly steps out, grabbing the nearest towel to dry himself off. He makes it back to the bedroom, going through his small closet in search of something to wear, keeping in mind he is headed to a job interview straight after classes are over.

He pouts, crinkles his nose and eventually settles for something casual, his best plain white t-shirt, black jeans and brownish boots. He runs his fingers through his hair, trying his very best to make it look presentable and then rushes to the kitchen, going through the cupboards in search of something for him to eat.

He checks the time, groans at the realization he's got ten minutes to make his way to campus and grabs his jacket, wallet and phone, tucking them into his back pockets on his way out of the small apartment. He goes down the stairs as fast as he possibly could without tripping, makes his way out of the building and down the street, a little smile on his lips as he takes in the Sun and the warmth of the day.

One of the things he likes the most is the transition from summer to autumn, which gives him warm days, but a cool breeze and the beautiful earthen color of the leaves. He stops midway, grabs some coffee and a bagel, smiles at the barista -who has gotten used to seeing him around at least three times a week- and then eats it all on his way to campus.

He checks the time on his phone, sighs in relief as he realizes he still got some time to spare and makes his way inside the library building. He had always loved the place, which never failed to bring a smile to his lips and make him at peace. He grabs a copy of To Kill A Mockingbird, takes a seat down on one of the many empty chairs and flips through a couple of pages, writing down some lines in a small notebook he retrieves from his backpack.

The buzz around the hallways is what brings him back to reality, his green eyes widening as he realizes if he doesn't rush out of the building now, he might as well get to class after his teacher. And Timothée can be quite carefree with most things of his life, but he takes his studies very seriously.

He sighs, pushes himself up from the chair and joins the crowd in the hallways, chuckling as he realizes they might all seem like a hive of bees. He bumps into Chloe as he enters the main building, waving her over as he rushes down the long hallway.

"Where the hell were you yesterday? You completely disappeared on us and didn't even answer our messages."

"Sorry, but I met this guy and he was probably the hottest guy I have ever seen," he grins, wiggling his eyebrows. "We hit it off and then rushed to the bathroom to have some privacy, you know?"

"You fucked a random dude at the bar's bathroom?"

Timothée frowns, biting his lip as he turns to face his friend.

"You somehow make it sound like it was a bad idea."

"Well, it's not a completely bad idea, but it would be nice if you told your friends what you were doing, you know? Just in case the guy turned out to be a complete psycho who tried to kill you."

"Luckily for me, the only thing he wanted was to pleasure me."

Chloe rolls her eyes, but can´t help the smile that appears in her lips. "Are you joining us for lunch after class?"

"I wish I could, but I have to rush over to the interview," he explains. "The company building is near Central Park and I don´t wanna be late, so I won't take any chances."

"Okay, we´ll catch up with you later then."

"Sure, I´ll stop by the bookstore later today."

"I'll be waiting."

He gives her a quick kiss on the cheek, then turns on his heel, rushing inside his classroom. He waves at some of his classmates, grabs his phone in his hand, scrolls through his contact list and finds the name of the stranger from the previous night. Well, Armie, the tall and absolutely gorgeous man that had left him with wobbly legs and a sore ass.

He frowns, bottom lip trapped in between his teeth as he debates on what to text him, or even if he should text him. It's been about six hours since they parted ways and usually Timothée wouldn't even reach out, but that man had left him feeling like he needed more. And so, he quickly types down on the phone´s keyboard, tongue tracing his bottom lip, heart beat accelerated.

**_< timothee>_ ** _ you made the mistake of giving me your phone number _

_ now deal with the consequences _

Timothée licks his lips, trying to control the excitement inside of him, but failing miserably. He didn't expect to be so attached to this guy so easily, but he sure isn´t missing the opportunity to get it on with him once again.

**_< timothee>_ ** _ would love to get a replay from last night _

_ hit me up when you can _

He sighs, locks his phone and places it back on his pocket, focusing his attention on his teacher, who is already standing in front of the class.

  
  


* * *

  
  


Timothée sighs, his hand starting to sweat as he sits in the large and insanely white waiting room, his green eyes locked in a poster that hangs on the wall opposite from him. He bites his lip -or rather chews on it-, his leg bouncing and his heartbeat increasing more and more with each passing second.

He shouldn't be this worried, he has been through other job interviews before, but this one is definitely the most important one he has ever done. The company happens to be one of the major graphic design and marketing companies in the state, earning extremely important jobs every single day and leaving its mark in the world. He would be the happiest person in the world if he could get a job there, even if all he had to do at first was serve the boss some coffee.

"Chalamet?"

He turns to look at the secretary, eyes wide as she gets up and walks to the door, her flowy dress hugging her body perfectly. He inhales deeply, pushes himself up and fixes his clothes, walking towards her with a small smile.

"Relax, they only look scary" she whispers against his ear, a hand landing on his arm and squeezing it softly. "Good luck."

"Thank you," he says as she opens the door and leads him in, sliding a few files down the long black table. He keeps his eyes down to the ground for a second, gets himself together and then looks up, his mouth dry the moment his eyes land on the man sitting at the very end of the table, whispering something to the older guy by his side.

Timothée swallows dryly, his hands turning into fists as the man moves his gaze towards him, his blue eyes just as wide as his probably are. He doesn't know why, but Armie is sitting at that table and about to participate in his interview, which now seems a lot more difficult than he had ever predicted.


	2. Taking Up A Fraction Of My Mind

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A surprising encounter leads to complicated decisions.

The penthouse is exactly what one would expect to see on a decor magazine, large and luxurious, but still tasteful and with a lot of attitude. The primary colors are black and white, although the posters in one of the walls are colorful and bright. The kitchen is high tech, with beautiful granite countertops and a fancy fridge. The living room is spacious, a big leather couch and two armchairs, a glass table at the center, a rug and a large television, which is surrounded by a couple of shelves with books and art pieces. There are floor to ceiling glass doors that lead to a balcony, where there's a round wooden table, two lounge chairs, a barbecue grill, a mini bar and the breathtaking view of New York city. 

The place is quiet, peaceful, the only sound the ones coming from the street as the Sun barely starts to rise. Inside the bedroom, with the curtains wide open, Armie lies in bed, his tired blue eyes look at the sky through the large slide doors that lead to the patio. He's still a bit sleepy, that's obvious, but he also feels relaxed, at ease and ready to face the day, which promises to be a tough one. He pushes himself up from the bed, runs his fingers through his hair as he drags his naked body across the bedroom and over to the doors, sliding them open to take in the morning fresh air. 

Even this early, New York is already beaming, cars and people filling the streets, hard workers heading to or back from their jobs, making sure the engine of the city that never sleeps keeps on working. He closes his eyes, inhales deeply and then turns on his heels, closes the door behind him and heads to his closet, grabbing a hoodie and some sweatpants to put it on. He looks for his running sneakers, ties them on quickly and then makes a pit stop by the kitchen to grab a bottle of water.

He checks the time, puts on his airpods and places his phone in the pocket of his hoodie while heading to the elevator, punching in the code to get him down to the lobby. He starts the music, getting himself pumped before he starts his run, although his mind insists on going back to the young man he met the previous night. Timothée was his name and Armie can´t help but smirk when he remembers hearing it for the first time, the way the name rolled out of his tongue, the spark in his beautiful green eyes when he glanced up at him and repeated over and over again until he had the pronunciation right. 

They were together for about forty minutes and yet it was probably the best hookup Armie had in his entire life. He felt connected with the guy, even if they didn't talk much or shared much details about their personal lives. And then when they kissed, it was almost as if something had ignited deep inside of him; it was completely different from everything he experienced before and cherished every single second of it. 

As he steps out of the luxurious building, Armie takes a look up at the sky and then down at his phone, scrolling through his messages in search of anything interesting. He gave Timothée his number and hoped he would have the chance to text him so they could arrange something again, but he knew it was unrealistic to have the guy text him this early in the morning. If there was one thing Armie learnt in all these years is that people hardly ever text so soon, scared they might seem too clingy or desperate. And Timothée sounded like the person who would hate for others to think he was desperate.

He smiles, stretches out his arms, rolls up his shoulders, then takes a deep breath before he sprints down the street, keeping a steady pace. He controls his breathing, keeps his eyes attentive to his surroundings and tries to focus on the music that is playing, his steps sometimes changing to the rhythm of the songs. He runs for nearly a whole hour, returning to the building sweaty and red in the face. He nods and waves at some of the staff, greets one of the other residents and then goes to the private elevator that leads to his penthouse, leaning against the stainless steel walls, his eyes closed as he tries to relax his body once again.

Once the doors open, he quickly makes his way out and over to the bedroom, grabbing a towel in the closet before heading to the bathroom. He turns on the shower, the warm water cascading down his naked body and washing away all the sweat, while also bringing his body back to life. On a day where he knows he will be seated for long hours, going through bureaucratic work, it feels good to go out for a run and unwind a little bit.

By the time he is dressed, black suit with no tie, Armie´s stomach is growling and he swiftly walks to the kitchen, starting off the coffee machine and preparing himself a sandwich. He sits down on the counter, phone in hand, scrolling through the latest news and checking his emails. When the coffee machine stops, he fills up his mug and takes a couple of sips, a smile spreading across his lips as the hot liquid slides down his throat. He takes a few bites of his sandwich, eyes wandering to the patio every once in a while, noticing as the Sun shines bright and the clouds that were up in the sky before are now completely gone. It's an incredibly beautiful day in New York.

  
  


* * *

Armie parks the car in the underground garage of the Hammer building, turns off the engine and leans back on the seat, inhaling deeply. He reaches for the stack of files and papers on the passenger seat and takes them all with him, locking the car behind him before he makes his way to the elevators. He glances around the garage as he waits, the quietness and darkness of the place slightly eerie, which makes him think they should probably add a few more lights around the place. 

Once the doors open, Armie immediately steps to the side, giving space so the two women who exit the elevator to step out. He smiles politely at them, steps inside and presses the button to the twentieth floor of the building, where his agency is set. He scans through a few of the papers in his arm, makes a few mental notes of things he needs to discuss with his father, some emails he needs to send to some clients and almost doesn't realize the doors opening again on the thirteen floor.

He looks up eventually, greets the two older gentlemen and then leans against the wall, his eyes focused on the display on top of the doors, the numbers changing every second, his floor getting closer and closer. The elevator stops by the eighteen floor, the two gentlemen exit and Armie watches as the doors close once again, only to reopen seconds later. He smiles as he steps into his office, his team already spread out across the room, some of them gathered on the communal table, going through sketches and designs, others are on their own desks, typing or working on a new project and another handful is by the cafeteria, sipping some coffee while chatting.

He takes in the whole scenario, always pleased to be in this environment, no matter the amount of work he had on his shoulders. This is what he was born to do and Armie couldn´t be happier to do what he does. He gives a collective good morning on his way to his office, stopping only when his secretary, a tall brunette with long curly hair stands up, fixes her flowy dress and rushes over to him.

"Good morning, Megan, what you got for me today?"

"Morning, boss," she smiles, handling him a couple more files. "There are some contracts for you to sign and some proposals for you to go through. Mr. Jenkins called to check in if the meeting you have with him tomorrow is still good and the conference room is already prepared for the interviews this afternoon."

"Oh, those interviews," he groans, shaking his head. "Has my father called?"

"Yes, said he will be here around one."

"Great, he enjoys that side of the business much more than I do," he smirks as Megan chuckles. "Anyway, call Mr. Jenkins and confirm we are meeting, I want to get this done as soon as possible. I´ll go through all these contracts and proposals, if I have anything that needs to be changed or checked on, I´ll call you."

"Sure thing," she nods and turns around, but stops before Armie can even reach his office door. "You want your coffee now or later?"

"Later, I had some before leaving the apartment, but thank you anyway."

"No problem, boss."

He smiles, opens the door to his office and sighs, staring at it for a while before he kicks the door close. He sets all the papers down on his desk and then walks over to the large windows, staring down at the busy street. He can see Central Park not that far away, kids and teeangers wandering around the sidewalk and hundreds of vending carts already taking over the streets. 

He reaches for his phone, notices there are a few messages from an unknown number and frowns. He clicks on the messages, his whole face lightening up when he realizes the messages are from Timothée, who seems just as eager as he is to meet up again. He starts writing a reply, erases everything seconds later and then simply stands there, fingers hovering over the keyboard as he wonders what he could write. 

He's distracted by a knock on the door though and glances over his shoulder, cocking an eyebrow as Megan pokes her head in, a slightly forced smile on her red lips. He gestures for her to get in and quickly turns off the phone, placing it back in his pocket without even having the chance to reply back to Timothée.

"What's wrong?"

"Leslie from the publishing company is here and she wants to talk to you about a project you two were planning on working on?"

"Yeah, I completely forgot about that," Armie sighs, but shrugs his shoulders. "Tell her to come in."

"Be right back."

Armie shakes his head, walks over to his desk and puts on his best smile once the door opens again, revealing Leslie

"Good morning, Armie."

“Good morning, Leslie, please, come on in.”

* * *

  
  
  


The whole process of hiring people is one of the few things Armie truly dislikes about the job, not only because he has to sit there for hours on end, making the exact same questions to a bunch of strangers, but also because he hates seeing the crushed faces of some of the candidates, specially when they seem to realize they haven´t exactly done a great job. He has seen it all in the five years he's been the CEO of the company, people burst out crying, getting red in the face, sweating like pigs and even having stuttering fits.

But he has to admit it's not all bad, after all, these interviews do allow them to get to know some incredible artists, people with a talent that should be recognized and used for good, something that will move the masses. And that has always been the main goal of their agency. Ever since his grandfather founded Hammer Graphic Design and Marketing, sixty years ago, he wanted to create things that not only enhanced people's curiosity on products, but that also looked good on their own, some of them working even as a piece of art.

And while there were critics who would say that's impossible, Armie believes they managed to keep that essence, at least for most of their work. And even if they didn´t, whatever they were doing seemed to be good enough to get them to the position they were in today, with partnerships all across the country, being recognized as the best graphic design agency in the state and one of the best in the country. His grandfather would be proud, he's certain of that.

"How many more do we have today?," Armie asks from the window, glancing over his shoulder at the large black table where his father and the head of their H. R. are seated.

"Just one more," says his father, leaning back against the chair and taking a file in his hands, flipping through a couple of pages there. "A young man from Columbia University, with a few technical courses in the field, skills in every single one of the editing and creative apps, excellent grades throughout school and fluent French."

"Seems almost too good to be true," Armie mumbles, walking back to the table. "Megan, you can send him in, please."

"Okay, boss."

He takes a seat next to his father and brings some of the files closer to him, going through every single person that walked through that door the last two hours, his notepad open so he can write down a few notes about each one of them. They had come across a few people who seemed good enough for the spot, bright minds and talented, yet there's still something missing in every single one of them and Armie knows his father feels the exact same way.

He hears the door open, the clicking of Megan´s heels, but remains focused on the files he's going through, finishing up his notes. When he finally ends, Armie sighs, closes the file and turns to the side to whisper something to his father before he can look up, his eyes immediately falling on the young man that is standing across the table, staring at him just as surprised.

Armie clenches his jaw, sits up straight and swallows thickly, his blue eyes unable to move away from Timothée, who´s standing there in complete silence. How on earth did this happen? What are the odds that the man he slept with less than twenty four hours ago is now standing right in front of him, about to be interviewed for a spot on his team?

"Mr. Chalamet, please sit down," his father says and Armie finally manages to break eye contact with Timothée. "I´m Douglas Hammer, the owner of Hammer Graphic Design & Marketing, this is Jacob Stewart, our H. R. manager and this is my son, Armie Hammer, our current CEO."

Armie can tell Timothée grows even more tense at those words and he understands exactly what he is going through, and can almost imagine what he is thinking. Seconds ago he was going for a simple work interview, now he basically had to beg for a job for the guy he got on his knees for in a random bathroom and Armie knows that if he was in his shoes, he would be fucking terrified.

Luckily for Armie, who can barely find the right words to say at the moment, his father is the one to lead the interview, asking questions to Timothée while he sits there, doing his very best to get a hold of himself and focus on his job. It's not an easy task though, hours ago he was stuck in a bathroom with Timothée, his cock filling up his mouth, his fingers sliding down those curls and keeping him in place. Hours ago, Timothée was moaning his name while he slapped his ass and fucked him. And just this morning he had hopes they would soon find themselves in that same situation once again, so he could relish on the feelings Timothée brought out of him one more time. Now, all Armie had was this gut wrenching feeling that his world was about to be turned upside down and he had absolutely no control over what happened next.

"...and I have always loved everything the company has come up with, I think your ideas are intelligent, appealing and extremely well done."

"Thank you, Mr. Chalamet, I am very proud of what we have accomplished here over the years."

Armie leans back against his chair, noticing as Timothée´s eyes keep wandering back to him, although he clearly is trying his best not to do so. 

"You finish university next May, right?"

"Yes, I'm graduating next May in Columbia. I'm getting a Graphic Design and Marketing degree."

"You´ve always wanted to work in the area?"

"Yes," he quickly answers. "I´ve started showing interest when I was around ten, but I started a basic graphic design course when I was fourteen and have done a few other ones ever since."

"You do have an impressive resume," Douglas says, sliding the paper over to Armie, who sighs and takes it in his hand.

"Thank you, Sir."

"And may I ask, why Columbia?"

"Both my father and grandfather went to Columbia, it's a place I always felt connected."

"What was your second choice?"

"I tried out for Harvard, Yale, Berkley and Dartmouth too."

"Was Columbia the only one you got in?"

"No, I got into all four of them," he answers and Armie immediately raises his gaze, incredibly surprised by his answer. "But like I said there was a connection with Columbia, so while happy and proud of myself for my achievements, there wasn't much to think about."

"Wow, you keep on positively surprising me, Mr. Chalamet."

"Thank you, Sir."

"Mr. Chalamet," Armie´s voice finally seems to come out, his heart beating incredibly faster as he locks eyes with Timothée. He wishes he could resort to silence for the rest of the interview, but he is also fully aware he has a job to do and he must remain a professional approach to this, no matter how uncomfortable the situation might make him. "Mr. Chalamet, your resume is truly amazing, but tell me exactly what you bring to the table? How do you help our company grow?"

Timothée moves on the chair, an almost imperceptive movement, but is enough for Armie to notice and bring him back to the previous night, the way he would move against him. He also notices a light blush fill up his cheeks and has to hold his breath for a second, his hands nearly turning into fists.

"I'm a quick thinker, Mr. Hammer," the words seem to roll out of Timothée´s tongue without much thought and Armie instantly feels a shiver run down his spine. Never had he thought someone calling him mister would be so incredibly arousing. "I like challenges and can work perfectly with a team, I know when to talk and when to listen, I´m also creative and always attentive to what is going on in the world."

Armie simply nods, turns his eyes down for another minute before glancing back at him. "We asked all of our candidates to bring a new marketing approach to one of the products we already work with and a design pitch to a mock company. Did you?"

"Yes," he quickly answers, sliding a small file down the table. "I hope you'll like it."

Armie takes the file in his hands, opens and takes a quick look through it, nodding his head afterwards.

"We´ll evaluate them later on," Douglas says, quickly glancing over at the file in Armie´s hands before turning back to Timothée. "I have a few more questions I´d like to ask you, Mr. Chalamet."

"Of course," he answers and Armie feels his eyes move back to him. "You can ask me anything, Sir."

  
  
  


* * *

The conference room has gone quiet, a pile of papers and files on the left corner, while Armie stands by the large windows, watching the vibrant city below him. He bites on his lip, thumb gently and distractedly running through his stubble, his thoughts running wild. He still can´t believe the man he was with last night, who moaned his name and scratched his back, who wrapped his warm mouth around his cock, was standing right in front of him only about two hours go, trying to get a job at his company.

They had hit it off perfectly, they laughed and flirted like Armie hadn´t done in months, their time together at the bathroom had been the best fuck Armie had had the whole year probably and he was looking forward to seeing him again, but now that all came crashing to the ground. To make things worse, his father had clearly liked him and was inkling to accept him into the company, much to Armie´s despair.

It was obvious Timothée was one of the best candidates for the job, his resume was impeccable, he was in one of the best universities in the whole country and the pitch he created was amazing. But still, they had slept together, Armie had whispered filthy words in his ear, spanked him and fucked him in a bar´s bathroom, there was no way they could work together. 

There was no way he could be Timothée´s boss.

"Armand?"

"Huh?," he glances over his shoulder, eyebrows cocked as his father stares at him with a confused expression. "What did you say?"

"I asked you what you think about Mr. Chalamet."

"I don't think he's the right person for the job."

"And why is that?"

Armie shrugs, arms crossed as he walks back to his father. He absolutely hates himself for doing this, but he needs to try something that would stop Timothée from working for him, because he simply couldn't live with the idea of seeing him every single day of the week, the memories of their night together coming back to haunt him.

"Don´t get me wrong, dad, he seems like a really intelligent young man, his resume is quite good, but I don't believe he's the right person for the job at hand."

"I usually agree with you, son, but this time I can´t. I saw something in Mr. Chalamet that really caught my attention, he seems quite resourceful, intelligent, a quick thinker like he said himself and most of all, someone who truly wants the job. I think he could be exactly who we need in our team right now, not to mention he seems quite a nice person, someone who gets along with people easily."

"Tell me about it," Armie mumbles.

"What?"

Armie shakes his head, a little smile on the corner of his lip. "You do what you think it's best for the company, dad. You have always had an eye for this, always knew exactly who to hire to improve our work, so I trust you will make the right choice."

"Are you okay?"

"Yes, I´m okay," he nods, squeezing his father's shoulder. "I need to go through some papers for a meeting in a few minutes, but call me if you need anything, alright?"

"Alright," Douglas nods, taking yet another file in his hands. "I´ll leave Mr. Chalamet at the top of the pile for now, but I want to talk to you more about the candidates, okay?"

"Sure, we´ll do that."

Armie tries to smile, but fails miserably, letting out a heavy sigh the moment he makes it out of the conference room. He looks down the hallway at the common area of the office, some of his employees focused on their computers, while others exchange a couple of words on the large communal table at the center of the room. He bites his lip, turns on his heels and heads to his office, locking the door behind him before he rushes over to his desk and throws himself on the black leather chair, his eyes up to the ceiling.

  
  


* * *

  
  


The slide door that leads to the balcony is wide open, the moonlight shining through and illuminating the entire penthouse. In the kitchen, barefoot and now stripped from his suit, Armie goes through his cupboards, reaches for a package of chips and rips it open, taking a few in his mouth before he grabs a glass on the shelf. His eyes scan through his little cellar and he reaches for the bottle of Whiskey, pouring himself a glass before taking the chips with him to the balcony.

He sits down in one of the lounge chairs, taking a few sips of his drink while his eyes wander through the starry sky. He sighs, the weight of the day starting to take a toll on him, the realization that Timothée could end up being his employee the only thing he can think of at the moment. They interviewed over a dozen people that afternoon, all of them with some skill that would be greatly welcomed in their team, but Timothée, only Timothée seemed to have the full package and yet Armie simply couldn't deal with the possibility of having him as his employee.

And sure, they were both grown men, who could learn how to deal with the idea they had a one night stand, but there was something about Timothée, something that ignited a fire deep inside of Armie and left him uneasy. Just having to make it through the whole interview was a challenge, one he often thought he would fail in. And maybe if he told his father what had happened, why he was skeptical of hiring Timothée, he would understand; but Armie didn't want to give him any ammunition to go on about how he should just stop with the random hookups and actually get himself in a serious and meaningful relationship, which would definitely save him from situations like this one.

He sighs, closes his eyes and runs his fingers through his hair, trying his very best to keep himself collected, even if it seems almost impossible. He finishes his drink in two long gulps, frowns as he hears the elevator and gets up, walking back inside just as the doors open to reveal the tall and blonde woman standing there. He glances at her up and down, her heels higher than what it seems comfortable, her skinny jeans hugging her legs perfectly, her sweater falling down and exposing her left shoulder, while on her bright red lips there's a cheeky smile.

"Anna? What are you doing here?"

"Is this how you greet someone you haven't seen in over a month, brother?"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I´m so happy with the response the first chapter for this fic got and I sure hope you guys will enjoy what´s still to come. Thank you for all the love, Raquel. :)


	3. The Coveted Bachelor

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Decisions have to be made

Armie finishes his drink in two long gulps, frowns as he hears the elevator and gets up, walking back inside just as the doors open to reveal the tall and blonde woman standing there. He glances at her up and down, her heels higher than what it seems comfortable, her skinny jeans hugging her legs perfectly, her sweater falling down and exposing her left shoulder, while on her bright red lips there's a cheeky smile.

"Anna? What are you doing here?"

"Is this how you greet someone you haven't seen in over a month, brother?"

"I...I...," he shakes his head, lets out a chuckle and pulls her closer to a tight and warm hug, kissing her cheek in the process. "I thought you were staying in London for one more week."

"That was the plan, but I had been to all the workshops I had signed up for, had gone through all the meetings I had planned, so I figured it was time to come back home and be with my family."

"It's great to have you back, Anna."

"It's good to be back, brother."

"Have you seen dad and Margareth already?"

She nods, untangling herself from his grip to walk to the kitchen, her eyes scanning the shelves until she finds the bottle of Scotch and a glass. She pours herself a drink, takes a few sips of it and smiles, a sigh of contentment escaping her as she turns around to face her brother and leans against the granite counter. 

"I arrived around four in the afternoon and went straight home," she explains. "Dad was at the company with you, but Margareth and Beth were there to welcome me."

"And I bet Beth has already prepared a feast to welcome you, huh?"

"You remain as her favorite, no need to be salty, but yeah, she did cook an incredible dinner."

"I wouldn't expect anything less from her," he smiles, pours himself a glass of Scotch too and then gestures for Anna to follow him down to the patio, where they both sit down, her on one of the lounge chairs, while Armie reclines back in the chair by the wooden table. "So, how was London?"

"Intense, but also extremely fun. I got to meet some incredible people, visited amazing places and designers, got my mind focused on what I want to do and now I'm ready to begin my own brand."

"I´m proud of you, Anna," he smiles. "Mostly because that means you´re finally gonna actually work on something."

"Hey!"

"What? It's not like I'm lying."

"You try to be funny, Armand, but you simply can´t do it."

"I'll let you know I'm funny as hell."

"Who lied to you, sweetie?"

"Fuck off."

Anna laughs, places her glass down on the floor and ties her long blonde hair up in a messy bun, a few stray strands falling down the sides. She takes the glass back, sips on her drink and sighs, big blue eyes scanning the night sky, before she glances back at her brother. 

"So, how are things going around here? Have I missed much?"

"Not really," he shrugs. "I´ve been basically working non stop the whole month, so things have been quite chill and slightly boring."

She nods slowly, but then raises an eyebrow, leaning closer to Armie. "You know what I always loved about us, brother?"

"What?"

"We simply can´t lie to one another," she smirks, crossing her arms. "So I suggest you just tell me whatever it is that is bugging you, because I´m so not in the mood to rip it out of you."

  
  


* * *

  
  
  


Timothée sits on the floor of his apartment, cross legged in front of the coffee table, his back up against the couch as he stares at his laptop screen, almost as if he's waiting for something to just magically appear there. Truth be told, all he can think about since this afternoon is the fact that Armie, the same man he hooked up with the previous night, the same man he had eagerly texted to set up a new encounter, was the man who was to decide whether or not he got a job. Not only that, he was the CEO and heir of the company, a company which he actually was a fan of and was extremely hopeful to be part of as soon as he found out they were hiring.

Now that sounded like a distant dream, a wish he would never be able to fulfil, all because he slept with the man who gets to decide who is good enough to work on the company. He still can´t quite wrap his head around the whole thing, can´t quite understand how he managed to make it through the whole interview without puking or making a complete fool of himself. He had never felt so embarrassed in his life as he felt the moment he noticed Armie was sitting there, staring back at him just as confused and astonished, probably cursing life just as much as Timothée was. 

He had heard of God working in mysterious ways, but for fuck´s sake, that was plain old torture.

He blinks as he hears a knock on his front door and sighs, closing the lid of the laptop before pushing himself up. He drags himself across the small living room, opens the door and tries his very best to put on a smile as he faces his friends, who stand there with confused expressions and a few bags on their hands. He opens the door wider for them, locks it once they make it in and follows them to the kitchen, taking a seat at one of the stools and helping them unpack their dinner, burger, fries and onion rings.

"What´s up with you?," Chloe asks, pushing some of her orange hair back. "You said you were gonna stop by the bookstore after the interview, but then sent that cryptic message and didn't say anything else for the rest of the day."

"Did something happen?"

Timothée glances over at Jackson, a quick and sarcastic chuckle escaping him. "Did something happen? Lord, where do I begin."

Jackson frowns, locks eyes with Chloe for a second, then turns back to Timothée, who´s stuffing his mouth with fries. "What the hell happened, bro?"

"Remember the guy I hooked up with yesterday?"

"The one you promise me to talk about but never did? Yes, I remember," Chloe smirks.

"Would you believe me if I told you I saw him at the interview?"

She cocks an eyebrow, a little smirk appearing on her face. "Was he one of the guys applying for the job? Guess you guys have more in common than you expected, huh?"

"No, he wasn't there for the interview. I mean, he was, but not like that."

Jackson tilts his head to the side, clearly confused, "I have no idea what you´re trying to say, Tim."

"He is the CEO of the company."

"Excuse me?," they both ask in unison, stealing a quick glance at one another before leaning against the counter, eyes locked on Timothée.

"Crazy, right? But that's not all, because he's not only the CEO, he's also the heir of the company."

Chloe stares at him in complete silence, her eyes wide and her mouth hanging open. As Timothée nods, she shakes her head, a dozen different expressions going through her face in the course of a minute.

"Please, tell us you're joking."

"Oh, I wish I was."

"That´s...," Jackson sighs. "Gosh, that´s weird as fuck."

"Trust me, I felt the exact same way," he nods, gripping onto the counter as he sighs loudly. "I was lucky enough his father, the owner of the company, was there and actually did most of the talking, otherwise I don't know if I would have made it."

"Kudos to you for even staying through the whole interview, Tim. I probably would have run off the moment I figured out he was there."

"The thought did cross my mind, but he seemed just as disturbed as I was, so I figured I could make it through."

Chloe shakes her head, a light chuckle escaping her. "That's so crazy, what are the odds of something like this happening."

Timothée shrugs, turning to Jackson with a little smirk, "you wanna run the math?"

"Funny," he rolls his eyes. "So, how does that interfere with your interview and chance to get a job there?"

"I don´t know," he admits while shrugging. "They said I´ll have an answer in about two days, but as off right now I'm not exactly optimistic about it, which is sad, because I really wanted that job."

"This is so insane," Chloe chuckles, shaking her head. "Can you imagine what is going on through that guy´s head?"

"I have an idea," Timothée says, staring down at his burger.

"I don´t know, Tim. This whole situation might be weird for you, but he's the one who's actually got to make a decision here."

"She's right," Jackson adds. "While it might be weird and confusing to you, that guy holds all the power in this situation and can decide a large part of your future. He can either be a good business man and do what's best for his company, even if it means hiring you and having to deal with the awkwardness of it all, or completely sabotage your chances at the job."

Timothée swallows thickly, his eyes stuck on Jackson as he repeats his words over and over again in his head.

"Great, now you´re making me even more worried."

  
  


* * *

It´s a warm night in New York, the stars filling up the sky and soft music coming from inside the penthouse. On the patio, the grill is on, the smell of sausage filling up the air as Anna remains seated in one of the lounge chairs, a few strands of her blonde hair blowing with the breeze of the night, her red lips turned into a smile while she raises her wine glass, which Armie fills it. 

He fills up his own wine glass, sets the now empty bottle down on the table and takes a seat at one of the chairs, setting his feet up on the nearest one. He stares up at the sky, eyes focused on an airplane that crosses by while his mind keeps drifting back towards what happened earlier that day. He takes a sip, licks his lip and eventually glances to his companion, arching an eyebrow as she stares back at him with a smirk.

"What?"

"Nothing, I´m just going through the whole situation in my head once again," she says, the mocking tone not missed by Armie. "I mean, you went to a college bar, which is something you don't often do, then managed to find yourself a sweet little ass to spend some time with, only to figure out later on that he was one of the guys applying for a job at the company. I mean, that's incredible, Armz, even for you."

"Glad to know my despair amuses you, Anna."

"Oh, you are always finding brand new ways to amuse me, brother," she chuckles, tucking the rebel curls behind her ear. "But this? God, this straight out of a rom-com, Armz."

As Anna laughs, Armie rolls his eyes, drinking all of his wine in two quick gulps. He sets the glass down on the table, pushes himself up and walks over to the railing, gripping tightly onto it as he stares down at the city. He hears her footsteps, then feels her hand pat his back before she leans against him, big blue eyes staring at him. 

"C´mon, spill it out."

"What you mean?"

"You told me the story, now tell me exactly what this whole thing is doing to you, because I can see you´re not at your best."

Armie shrugs and turns around, arms crossed above his chest. He looks back inside his apartment, then sighs and allows himself to stare his sister in the eye.

"I don't know what to do," he admits, shrugging his shoulders. "I know I shouldn´t interfere in his hiring, because I really don't want to harm his career in any shape or form."

"But?"

"But the other option is to hire him and that would make me his boss, Anna," he sighs, shakes his head and walks over to the grill, turning on the sausages, before he glances back at his sister. "Tell me, how am I supposed to go to work every single day knowing I´m gonna get there only to see him?"

Anna sighs, bites her lip and takes a quick look around the patio before walking over to her brother, holding tight onto his arm as she leans her head against his shoulder. 

"I know the situation is complicated and you´re probably going through all the possible scenarios in your head ever since you found out he is one of the candidates, but tell me, is he even a good option for the job or you´re just worrying ahead of time?"

"Oh, I wish that was the case," he shakes his head, gestures towards the table and takes the plate Anna hands him. "But judging by his resume and portfolio, he's the best goddamn option we got. And dad obviously loved him, was gushing about him for most of the afternoon, which only makes things worse for me."

"That's not good, we both know when dad likes someone, it's nearly impossible to get him to change his mind. If he really believes this guy can do a good job and help the company move forward, he will hire him no matter what you think."

"I know that, which is why right now I really hate the fact I agreed on allowing him to have a say on the hirings," Armie chuckles, scratching his stubble. "Too late to back down, though."

Anna chuckles, squeezes Armie´s arm softly and then plants a quick kiss on his cheek. She smiles, pats his back and then walks inside the apartment and goes straight to the kitchen, taking a few things from the top of the counter before walking back to the patio. She sets the packages down, a few hamburger buns, a bag of chips, mayo and salsa, her eyes wandering to Armie, who is taking the last sausage from the grill.

"Look, I wish I had something insightful to tell you, something that could help you get out of this situation you found yourself in, but I'm afraid that you might have to simply suck it up and deal with the fact this guy might become your new employee. You know when it comes to that company I know shit, but if you´re telling me that he's the best option you got and dad is madly in love with him already, then I´m afraid there's not really much else you can do."

Armie nods slowly, sits down once again and sighs, his eyes down and his posture of someone who's got the whole world upon their shoulders at the moment.

"I mean, you could always not hire him, but I also know you´re a good man and a professional, so you would never jeopardize this guy´s chance at such a great job just because you slept together once."

"Hearing you say that, it actually doesn't sound as bad as it is in my head."

"Maybe it isn´t as bad as you´re making it seem," she shrugs, taking one of the sausages into her plate. "But just to make sure, if you do hire him, try to avoid being alone with him in small spaces."

"What? You think I´m just gonna end up jumping him? Like I got no self control?"

"Brother, I know you better than anyone and sometimes you do think with your cock and not your head."

"Oh for fuck´s sake," he rolls his eyes, takes a bite of his bread and shakes his head. "The last thing I need right now is you talking about my cock."

"I´m not talking about your cock," she protests, shuddering. "That is gross, I´m talking about you and how you get when you get horny."

"Can´t we just eat?," he asks while Anna nods, although he can still see a little cheeky grin on her face.

* * *

Timothée thanks the vendor as he grabs his cup of coffee, a smile coming to his lips as he feels the warmth against his palms. He glances around campus, notices all the students that sit around the benches, the grass and even the steps to the library building, the sunny September morning surprisingly warm. He walks around the garden, attentive eyes wandering from one side to the other, while on his mind he tries his very best to shift focus from the one thing that had been haunting him ever since the previous afternoon. 

He wanted that job, he had worked so hard on the pitch they asked, had redone his entire portfolio to make sure he highlighted all of his best works, even if most of them hadn't been done in a professional matter. For a moment, he really thought he would be able to change things around, get the job of his dreams, pay his bills without the need to scream up for his parents 's help, but now he barely had any hope of getting the position. 

And to be completely honest, he wouldn't even blame Armie if he did interfere in his hiring. 

"What´s up, man?," he hears Jackson´s thundering voice echo as he rushes over to his side, an arm lazily wrapped around his shoulder as he reaches for his coffee, taking it in his hands and sipping on it a couple of times. "Oh, this is great."

"Yeah, then maybe you should get one for yourself."

"Well, someone is in a good mood," he mocks as Timothée sighs, shrugging his shoulders. He points to the steps of the main building and takes a seat, handing the cup back to Timothée once he's sitting beside him. "Still caught up in the whole interview thing?"

"I slept with the man, Jack," he groans. "I slept with him in a bar´s bathroom, I texted him basically saying I was looking forward to the day he would fuck me again and then I had to endure an almost hour long interview for a job that I am most probably not gonna get."

"Okay, I get that the situation isn't exactly the best one you could find yourself in."

"That's an understatement."

"Listen to me, man," he groans, rolling his eyes. "Yes, the situation is weird, but you gotta stop beating yourself up because of it. Neither one of you knew who the other was when you slept together, you guys didn't do anything wrong, you were just unlucky."

"I guess you have a point there."

"I do, trust me."

"It still sucks that I won't get the job, though."

"You don't know that."

"Oh c´mon, would you hire someone you slept with to work for you?"

"If the person is the right one for the job and the sex in question wasn´t their way of getting the job, then yes, I don´t see why not."

Timothée frowns, glancing up at Jackson. 

"You serious?"

"Yes, I´m serious. Like I said, neither one of you knew who the other was, you didn't plan any of this to happen and if this guy is smart enough, he will hire you no matter what."

"Why do I have a hard time believing that?"

"You of little faith," Jackson mocks, nudging Timothée softly. "Just try to calm down, alright? Not everything is ruined because you slept with someone without running their background check before."

Timothée chuckles, nodding his head. "I might actually start doing that from now on, it will certainly keep me from having any more surprises like this one."

"Yo, Chalamet," the voice echoes through the campus, attracting the attention of at least a dozen people around them. With frowns on their faces, Timothée and Jackson look to their right, watching as Chloe runs over to them, a magazine on her hand and her orange hair flowing around. 

"You good?"

"Mind telling me why you left out the fact that your hottie heir just happens to be one of New York´s most coveted bachelors?"

"Excuse me?"

She shoves the magazine in Timothée´s face, who groans and takes a hold of it, staring down at the page with wide eyes and mouth agape.

"Oh, he is handsome," Jackson points out as Timothée glances up at, making him shrug his shoulders. "What? He is."

"How did you even get this?"

"I was at my class, waiting for my teacher to arrive and this girl was whining about something she saw in this magazine. My first reaction was to wonder how on earth gossip magazines are still printed, but then I read the cutline and realized this was Armie freaking Hammer, the guy you got a crush on and your possible future boss."

"The guy I got a crush on? We slept together once and judging by what happened afterwards, I´m never seeing him again."

"So dramatic," she rolls her eyes, kneeling down to the floor. "First, I hate to be the one to deliver this news to you, my friend, but you do have a crush on him, otherwise I doubt you´d be that affected by what happened. Second, they told you to wait for two days, so as far as I'm concerned you still got a chance at the job."

"How can you two be this optimistic in the middle of a situation like this?"

"Well, there's a reason why you guys call me Miss Sunshine."

Jackson chuckles, nodding his head. "And like I said, if he knows what's good for his business, he will hire you, no matter what."

"Yeah, we´ll see about that."

"In the meantime, I have a game tonight, why don´t you guys stop by and then we can go out for a couple of drinks?"

"Sounds good to me," Chloe quickly replies, nudging Timothée. "What about you?"

"Sure, I could use something to distract myself from this mess."

"Drama queen."

* * *

  
  
  


The elevator doors open and Armie quickly steps out, leather backpack hanging from one of his shoulders and a pile of files on his arm. He gives a general greeting at his team, a smile on his face as he walks to the small cafeteria, grabbing his mug on the top shelf and pouring himself some hot coffee. He takes a few sips of it, the warm liquid soothing him and making him more alert, ready for a brand new day of work.

He makes it through the office, stopping by at some of the desks to chat with his employees, check on their latest projects and share some of his ideas. On his way to his office, he stops by Megan´s desk, slides a couple of files in her direction and chuckles as she glances up at him with a frown on her face.

"I did some changes on these files, I need you to go through them for me and then send them over to the clients."

"Sure thing, boss."

"Also, need you to call Mr. Crawford and set up a meeting with him. We have a few things to discuss that we´ve been postponing, but we can´t do it any longer."

"I'll do that," she says while writing something down on a post-it. "Anything else you need me to do?"

"Nope, that's all for now."

"Okay, I´ll go through the files, make the call and let you know what he says," she smiles, hands him a sheet of paper and then gestures towards his door. "Your dad is waiting for you at your office."

"What the hell is he doing here this early in the morning?"

She shrugs, leaning her elbows on the table and turning on her computer. "I´m just a secretary, Armie, you should have known by now your father doesn't really give me any explanations."

"You´re way more than just a secretary, Megan."

"I know, I´m your right hand woman," she smirks. "But your father doesn't really care about that, does he?"

"You make it sound like he's a goddamn tyrant."

"He's far from that, but he's still the supreme boss."

"Supreme boss," Armie chuckles. "I'll let him know that."

As Megan laughs, Armie takes the files back in his hands and walks to his office, instantly noticing his father sitting by the leather couch by his right. He sets his things down on his desk, turns on his computer and sits down on the large black leather chair, arms crossed as he puts his feet up on the desk, a smirk appearing on his face as his father looks at him with a disapproving look.

"I didn't expect to see you here so early."

"I wasn't even supposed to come," Douglas explains, pushing himself up and walking to the vacant chair across from Armie´s. "I had promised to take Margareth out, but I really needed to take a better look at all those resumes and see if you´ve checked the pitches and portfolios of all the applicants."

"I have actually," he sips on his coffee, checks his phone and then sets it down, sitting up straight so he can reach for some of the files spread on the desk. "And I have to say, I´m pleasantly surprised at everyone´s creativity, dad. Whoever we choose, it will be a great asset for the company."

"I´m glad to hear that, you know how much I trust your instincts."

"I also know once you set your mind into something, we can hardly ever change it around," he explains as Douglas nods, crossing his arms. "You want to hire Chalamet, don´t you?"

"I do," he admits. "I was delightfully surprised with the way he carried the interview, specially because he seemed a bit tense at first, but he appears to be a very intelligent young man and like you mentioned, creative as most of the applicants have shown to be."

Armie simply nods, smacking his lips together as he looks down at his mug, trying desperately to find something that he could say that would get his father to change his mind. Still, no matter what he does, he can't seem to find a solution for his current dilemma. 

"But you don't want to hire him," his father says, attracting his attention. "And I can´t seem to understand why."

"It's not that I don't want to hire him, dad, I just want to make sure he is the best person for the job."

"Is that really it? Or is there something you´re not telling me?"

Armie frowns, his hand tightening around the mug as he stares at his dad. He tries to read his expression, understand if he has somehow realized something is going or if maybe, just maybe, Anna couldn't keep her mouth shut and ended up telling him what had happened. That was a stretch though, Anna usually knew when to keep things between them and had been doing that ever since they were old enough to sneak up on their parents.

"Dad, there´s nothing going on. I just want to be thorough, okay? My job is to keep this company running and I want it done in the best way possible."

"Okay, I´ll take your word for it."

"But?," Armie inquires, able to see in his father's eyes that this conversation isn't at all over.

"But I stick to my opinion that Mr. Chalamet is the best person for the job. We are looking for someone who can change things up around here, Armand, bring more creativity and life to our team. I don´t know why you can´t see it, but he is exactly what we need and I want to hire him."

Armie looks down, staring at his distorted reflection in the coffee as he licks his lips, his mind going through a dozen different thoughts. He sighs, raises his gaze and slowly nods, trying his best to put on a smile.

"Fine, we´ll do things your way."

"Just like that?"

"You´re still the owner of this whole thing, dad, and if there´s something I admire is your vision for things and the way you always seem to know exactly who we need by our side. I'll call the HR, make sure they go through the usual process and let him know our decision."

"Thank you, son. Eventually you'll realize this is the best decision we could have made."

"I hope you´re right," he mumbles, his eyes distant as he leans back on the chair, a part of him certain hiring Timothée definitely isn't a good idea, at least not for his own sanity.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry I haven´t had time to answer all your comments, but I truly appreciate all the support this fic is getting. This is just the beginning of our journey though, there´s still so much more to come ;)


	4. Can You Keep A Secret?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mr. Pessimist

The sun is starting to set, shades of orange mixing up with the blue sky as Armie sprints down the street, airpods on and hoodie covering most of his face. He keeps a steady pace, even after nearly an entire hour running, his mind focused only on the thousands of muscles he is moving with each step he takes. After his conversation with his father and a good few minutes with the HR team, Armie officialized Timothée's hiring, set up every single paper that needed to be done and gave Megan all the information she needed to send him an email informing him of their decision.

Armie had no doubt this was an incredible opportunity for Timothée and that he probably would be ecstatic to get the job, but he couldn't help but think if a part of him would be too scared to accept the job now that he knew who his boss would be. Or maybe he didn't care about any of that, maybe he was much more courageous than Armie and didn't give much of a care about the fact they had slept together and now would be boss and employee. 

All those thoughts were eating out at his brain for hours, which is exactly why Armie had to get out of the penthouse and there was nothing that made him forget about his problems quite like running. It made him feel grounded, it allowed him to forget about the rest of the world and that was exactly what he needed at the moment; forget about work, about Timothée and what the future had in store for them. 

Sweating and panting, Armie starts to slow down his pace, coming to a stop in front of a small grocery store. He walks in, buys himself a bottle of water and then walks back to his building, taking in the surroundings. There are a few ads that his company worked on in the neighborhood, billboards with projects he guided his team through and seeing those things always seemed to bring a smile to his face. 

He finishes his water by the time he makes it back to the building, waving at the ladies in the lobby and greeting some of his neighbors. He walks to his private elevator, hits up the button and leans against the wall as he waits, his eyes scanning the room for a second until they fall upon a man that sits in one of the armchairs by the lobby, flipping through a magazine. He frowns, hears the ding of the elevator arriving, but completely ignores it, walking over to the man.

"For a moment I thought I was hallucinating, but you're actually here," he says as the man raises his gaze, a cheeky smile spreading across his lips. "What the fuck are you doing here, Matthew?"

"Is this how you greet your best friend?"

"You were supposed to be in Egypt, right?"

"I was there for a whole month," Matthew says, pushing himself up from the chair. "But I started to get bored and figured it was time to move again, so I thought maybe coming home could be a nice change."

Armie scoffs, but pulls him in for a tight hug. It's been nearly six months since he had last seen his best friend, who would often leave without any notice, jump on a plane and travel to the other side of the world. He pulls away, gently patting his cheek and gestures for him to follow him as he walks back to the elevator.

He punches the code as they walk in, watches as the doors close and the engines start working, the numbers on the display fast changing. They share a couple of words throughout the ride, but the trivialities are cut short when the doors open again, the whole penthouse illuminated by the beautiful sunset.

"I'll never get used to this place," Matthew practically whispers as he makes it out of the elevator, following Armie to the kitchen.

"Well, maybe if you stayed in town for more than a week at a time you would."

"You know I can't stay still for long."

"Yeah, I know," he nods, taking two glasses from the cupboards and setting it down on the counter. "What do you want? Whiskey, Scotch or good old Vodka?"

"Let's start with a little Whiskey."

"Okay then," he turns on his heels, reaching up for the bottle on the top shelf and pouring two glasses. "So, what have you been up to? Besides jumping from one country to the other, of course."

"Not much, to be completely honest. I've traveled a lot, visiting a lot of places, meeting new people..."

"Sleeping with most of them, I suppose."

"You're jealous?," he smirks. "You know you'll always be my favorite."

"Fuck off."

Matthew chuckles, takes a sip of his Whiskey and then sighs, shrugging his shoulders.

"Like I was saying, I have met a lot of people and enjoyed myself, nothing more than that, but I've also realized a long time ago this is precisely all I need to be happy."

"Glad to hear that, man."

"What about you? Still not tired of the CEO lifestyle?"

"No, not really," Armie smiles, his eyes down to his glass, his finger tracing the brink of it. "I love what I do, even if it comes with its challenges."

"Well, you were the only one of us who always had your future figured out from quite an early age. Always said you were going to work on the family business, keep up with the family's legacy."

"I wouldn't say I always had my future figured out," he wrinkles his nose, glancing up at Matthew from under his lashes. "I knew I wanted to work on the company, keep up the work my grandfather started and that my father helped turn it into what it is today, but there's still so many aspects of my life that I don't know what to do about it."

"And those would be?"

Armie sighs, bites his lip and then shakes his head, allowing a small smile to spread across his lips.

"Those would be a topic for another moment," he eventually replies. "What we should be doing now is celebrating your comeback, which I am sure won't last very long, not being philosophical about our lives."

Matthew chuckles, nodding his head. "Fair play."

"Have you told Anna you're back?"

"Haven't had time to tell anyone yet," he starts. "I dropped my things off at the apartment and then came here to see my best friend."

"Well, I'm flattered."

"You should be."

Armie smiles, finishing his drink in tw quick gulps. "So, how exactly do you want to celebrate?"

"I've heard New York has some pretty cool bars," he jokes, raising an eyebrow. "Can Mr. Businessman take one night of his week to party or is that too much to ask from you now?"

  
  


* * *

  
  
  


"Has the game started?," Timothée asks while taking a seat beside Chloe on the bleacher, his eyes wandering around the court, where a couple of players gather around. He spots Jackson among them, eyes focused on one of his teammates, nodding eagerly at whatever he is saying.

He had always loved basketball, ever since they were teenagers and Timothée had always thought he would eventually get in some big team and become a national treasure. The truth is, despite his love for basketball, Jackson wasn't exactly looking to be a professional, he simply wanted the chance to play and if it got him a good scholarship, then even better.

"They were practicing a few balls, but it hasn't officially started yet," Chloe eventually responds, looking up from her phone. "Apparently someone from the other team isn't feeling that good, so we might end up going for a few drinks a bit earlier than expected."

"Someone is ill and you´re thinking about the drinks you´re gonna get, Chloe?"

"It's been a rough week, Timothée."

"It's freaking Tuesday."

"Okay, mister technicalities," she rolls her eyes. "Can't a girl have some drinks in the middle of the week?"

"You're unbelievable."

"I know," she smiles, pinches his cheek and plants a loud and wet kiss on his cheek, laughing as he recoils and frowns in disgust. "What? You don't like my kisses?"

"Forget unbelievable, the word I was looking for was actually crazy."

Timothée laughs, shakes his head and leans back on the seat, sighing as he looks around the stadium, spotting a few familiar faces. He waves at a classmate, nods at some girl who used to be in his class and then turns back to Chloe, who types away like a maniac.

"Who are you even talking to?"

"None of your business."

He cocks an eyebrow, leaning closer to her to try and take a peak. "Oh, c´mon, tell me who the hell got you so interested in that phone."

"I said it's none of your business, Chalamet."

"Okay then," he shrugs. "You don't have to tell me if you don't want to."

She sighs, rolls her eyes and locks her phone, putting it back into her pocket before turning to face Timothée, who glances at her from the corner of his eye.

"I met this guy at the campus´s cafe the other day," she eventually says. "We talked for a little bit, exchanged phone numbers and have been texting the past two days."

"You're going to go out with him?"

"I don´t know, we haven´t set anything up yet, not officially anyway."

"Do you have a picture? I wanna see him."

"So damn curious," she mumbles and Timothée chuckles, waiting until she hands him her phone, the man´s photo filling up the screen. "He's no Armie Hammer, but he's pretty damn sexy."

"Oh, shut up."

"What? You´re gonna sit there and pretend that Armie isn't one of the most handsome and sexy men you´ve ever seen in your life."

Timothée remains silent, although the look in his face says pretty much everything. Ever since he laid eyes on Armie, any other men he has even taken a second to look at couldn't come close to matching his looks. The man was like a goddamn statue come to life, perfectly imperfect and incredibly sexy.

"Got you speechless?," she smirks, nudging him. "You're thinking about the good time you had with that sexy giant, aren't you?"

"No, I was not."

"Liar."

Timothée rolls his eyes, leans back on his seat and notices as the lights in the stadium start to change, the players already warming up on the courtside.

"So, back to your love life, which right now seems to be the only active one in the group since I´m gonna be abstaining from sex for the next couple of weeks," he sighs as a soft giggle escapes Chloe. "Why don't you just ask him out already?"

"I´m trying to figure out a bit more about him, but the texts aren't really helping me that much."

"Exactly why you should go out with him."

"Maybe you're right."

"I am, trust me."

As Chloe nods, turning her attention back to her phone, the players start to be introduced. One by one they enter the court, Jackson earning quite a loud cheer as he steps in, most of them obviously coming from Timothée and Chloe. 

* * *

  
  
  


"Here you go."

"Thanks," Armie smiles as he glances up at the bartender, a young woman who seems to have just completed twenty one. He gives her a quick nod, adds a five dollar bill on the tips jar and then takes the drinks in his hand. He does his best to avoid the most crowded path, being careful not to spill anything on anyone on his way back to their table, where Anna and Matthew are talking. He sets the drinks down, pushes his chair closer to Anna and sits down, dividing the drinks in between them.

"So, you slept with your new employee?," Matthew asks quite abruptly, while taking one of the shots in his hand.

"Seriously?," Armie asks, eyes wandering to Anna, who shrugs her shoulders. "What happened with not telling anyone about this?"

"I'm not just anyone, Armie, I'm your best friend."

"I know that, but I was planning on keeping this a secret, you know? The more people who know about this, the bigger the chance of getting to my dad's ear and I really don't want that to happen."

"And who exactly would I tell that would somehow lead to your dad, Hammer? I'm pretty sure the crowd I hang out with is not exactly Doug´s type."

"That's true," Armie chuckles, nodding his head. "Still, it doesn't stop you from letting it slip in the middle of a dinner or something."

"I´ll be on my best behavior, I promise."

"You're never on your best behavior."

"And you used to like that," he smirks as Armie rolls his eyes and Anna groans, which makes him turn to her. "What?"

"You two are disgusting," she mocks, takes one of her shots and grunts, before leaning closer to Armie, her hand resting on his arm. "Okay, I know the whole story already, I understand you had your doubts about hiring the guy, I would probably go through the same thing. But now that everything's sorted, can´t you just try to relax a little bit and just push this whole thing back?"

"Oh, just push everything back, how come I never thought about this?"

"No need to be sarcastic, brother."

Armie sighs, finger tracing the brink of his shot glass.

"I just can´t see this working out, alright?"

"Why not?," inquires Matthew. "I mean, sure the situation might be a little awkward but this is not really the end of the world, right? Sure, you slept with your new employee, but he wasn't your employee at the time and there was no way of knowing this would happen."

"I know all of that and I tried to respond to all of this in a very rational way, but it's simply not working," he shrugs, takes a shot and sighs. "It might be that things happened too soon though. In a matter of hours he went from the guy I fucked in a bar´s bathroom, to the guy that was asking me for a job. I doubt any normal person would react to this calmly, right?"

Anna frowns, her eyes locked on Armie, studying every single one of his expressions and trying to understand exactly what is going through her brother´s head. She has seen Armie go through a lot of things, she has witnessed him going through huge problems and very wild phases, but she can´t remember ever seeing him this distress about something...or someone.

"What? Why are you staring at me like this?"

"Nothing," she stutters, blue eyes moving from Armie to Matthew, both of them staring at her slightly confused. "Nothing, I was just thinking."

"About?"

"Just forget it, it wasn't anything important," she shakes her head, putting on a smile. "Anyway, we´re here to celebrate Matthew´s comeback, right? So we should probably stop talking about work problems and focus on having fun."

"She's right," Armie smiles, clinks glasses with Anna and Matthew, then drinks the whole thing all at once, a loud grunt escaping him. "Jesus, this is strong."

"All good ones are."

Anna chuckles, nudging Matthew gently.

"So, how long do you plan on staying this time?"

"Probably not longer than a week."

"What? Are you serious?"

"Yes, I have plans of traveling to Australia, but there might be something coming up from South America too."

"Can´t you just sit still in one place for a little while?"

"He can't," Armie smirks. "He gets a high from traveling, same as you do with clothes."

"And where does your high come from? Work?"

"I could easily think of other dozen things that get me going, sis, but I rather not share them with you."

"Gross," she shivers, shaking her head as Matthew laughs.

* * *

  
  


Timothée leans his hip against the structure, his fingers tapping on the wooden counter as his green eyes glance at the bar, noticing most of the people that were on the game have moved there. He feels a tap on his shoulder and glances over, smiling as the bartender slides three large glasses towards him. He thanks him, takes a few sips from one of the glasses and then struggles to take them all in his hand, although he eventually manages. 

He walks through the crowd carefully, bobbing his head to the music and smiling as he bumps into a few of his classmates and even old high school acquaintances. Once he reaches their table, he slowly places the glasses down and takes a seat, letting out a loud sigh as he does so. He raises his glass, toasts with his friends and then takes a few long gulps, the cold liquid quite refreshing in the warm bar.

"Dude, what a game you played tonight," Timothée says while leaning back, his foot nudging Jackson under the table. "I lost count of how many points you scored, but it was so good even Chloe paid attention."

"Did she?," he asks, cocking an eyebrow, his eyes moving from Timothée to Chloe. "Because whenever I looked, she was on her goddamn phone."

"Like she's doing now?"

"Yeah, I mean, it's almost as if it's just the two of us here."

"We could even trash talk about her and she probably wouldn't even listen."

"Why don't you two try me," she teases, looking up at them from under her lashes. She smiles, turns off her phone and pockets it, turning her full attention to her friends. "And I did pay attention to the game, alright? So much that I started to wonder why the hell you insist on getting a math´s degree when you have this incredible gift and you should take advantage of it."

"Gosh, you sound just like my dad."

"Maybe your dad has a point?," she cocks an eyebrow and Timothée frowns, glancing from one to the other. While Jackson was indeed an incredible basketball player, he had always wanted to be a math´s teacher and the subject had often become a problem between him and his father. "Okay, I might have said too much now. I know this subject is a bit tricky."

"That's an understatement."

"But sometimes I do think it's a shame that you are not gonna explore your full potential," she adds. "You could be in the NBA in no time, Jack."

"Yeah, I´m fine with things just the way they are."

"Well, if that's the case, who I am to say anything else."

Jackson smiles in her direction, his hand landing on her shoulder, which he squeezes softly. While they sure had their moments, Jackson and Chloe had developed a relationship that worked better than the one Jackson had with his brothers.

"So," he drags out the  _ o _ , his black eyes turning back to Timothée. "Any news about the job? Was it today you were supposed to have an answer about it?"

"They said two days, but since the only news I expect to get from the company is the one that says I am not suitable for the job, then I´m not really looking forward to it. Actually, if they completely forget about me, I won't even complain."

"Such a drama queen, Jesus."

"I´m not being a drama queen, Chloe, just being realistic," he shrugs. "I know you guys have faith that I could still get something out of this, but I don´t."

"Why not?," Jackson asks, a bit frustrated.

"Because I don't think he's gonna have the balls to hire me?," he sighs, leans back on his seat and looks down at his hands, wishing they would just drop the subject all together. "I mean, I definitely wouldn't have the guts to do such a thing, you know? And yes, I remember what you said Jackson, we didn't do anything wrong, we didn't even know who one another were, but still, hire someone you had that kind of moment with? I don't know, it feels a bit too much."

"Yes, the situation is not ideal, but I think you´re making it way worse than it truly is," Chloe states, her elbows leaned on the table as she looks at Timothée. "You´re both grown men, you can sit down and talk about the situation, make sure whatever awkwardness there is between you two doesn't interfere on the job. And sure, this conversation would be extremely weird and uncomfortable at first, but it won't kill any of you. You´ve got to be willing to try, though."

"You really think with just a simple conversation we can pretend that days ago he didn't have me pressed against a bathroom sink, whispering dirty words into my ear while he fucked me?"

"Tim, she didn't say it would be easy," Jackson explains. "But if this job is as important to you as you claim to be, don´t you think it would be worth trying?"

Timothée frowns, his friends´s words repeating themselves in his head over and over again. He had been dreaming of a job like this one for months, searching in every single website he could find an ad that could lead him to something in his area, a job that he was actually made for and not just another random thing he would be in for a few months and then leave without even one ounce of regret.

He wanted to use his talent for something real, sit down with his peers and create things that would be seen by the whole city, maybe even the country. He deserved that and for a hot second he really thought he would get that at Hammer Graphic Design & Marketing, but after what happened, he simply couldn't see himself being hired. Not when Armie was his boss, not when he wasn't sure that he would be able to keep himself together whenever he was around.

"So, would you be willing to try?"

Timothée bites his lip, glancing over at Chloe and then at Jackson, who eagerly wait for his answer.

"Honestly? I don't even know anymore."

  
  


* * *

  
  


It's nearly midnight when Timothée makes his way back to his apartment, kicking the door close behind him. He sighs, eyes scanning the room, a groan escaping him when he notices the mess he left in the living room. He inhales deeply, runs his fingers through his hair and starts collecting his things, placing his computer and notebook back in his backpack, folding the blanket and placing it down on the couch and eventually taking the used plate and glass back to the kitchen, throwing them in the sink.

He contemplates washing it, but quickly dismisses the idea and takes a glass of water, drinking it quickly. He checks the windows, making sure they are all closed and then walks over to the balcony, taking in the evening breeze for a second. He closes his eyes, thinks back about everything that has happened in the last three days, how crazy his life has become so swiftly and sighs. He's aware his friends are right, that it would be so much easier to take things lightly, but at the moment he has a hard time doing so.

He needed money. And yes, he has some money saved in case things go south, his parents are always willing to help him with whatever he needs and he could always move to one of the dorms at the university, but the truth he doesn't want any of that. Timothée wants to get the job, prove his worth and learn with some of the best in the business. He wants the chance to do something that makes himself proud.

With a sigh, Timothée walks back inside, locks the door behind him and pulls on the curtains that seclude his apartment from the outside world. He walks to his bedroom, takes off his clothes and makes it to the shower, the warm water cascading down his naked body. He rubs his face, pushes some of his hair back and bites his lip, trying to come up with some ideas of what he could do once he runs out of money and everything goes wrong. The bar they always go to is currently looking for a new bartender, but he doubts he could handle the craziness. A grocery store down the street is also hiring, but Timothée has had experiences working at a grocery store once and it didn't exactly go well.

He turns off the shower and steps out, reaching for a towel to wrap around his waist. He grabs some old pajamas on his closet, puts it on and climbs in bed, reaching for his phone at the bedside table. He scrolls through some of his notifications, most of them unimportant, and finds himself with wide eyes and an accelerated heartbeat when he suddenly sees an email from Hammer Graphic Design & Marketing on his inbox. His fingers hover over the screen, his breathing labored as he debates whether or not he should open the email. Aware there's really no reason to prolong his pain, Timothée clicks on it and watches as it fills up his screen, his eyes scanning through the words.

"What the fuck?," is all he manages to say when he finishes reading the email, his eyes wide.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Have I told you guys how much I love you guys??? Thank you so much for the support you guys have been showing me. It means a lot to me that you guys love this fic as much as I do.


	5. Will You Remember Those Times

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Welcome to the family.

Heavy clouds fill up every inch of the grey sky, the first drops of rain falling down on the patio and causing a little rattling sound to echo throughout the penthouse. The sound is what awakens Armie, who sighs and rolls around on the bed, staring up at the ceiling as he scratches his naked chest. He frowns, the sound of the coffee machine being turned on in the kitchen startling him and causing him to immediately sit up in bed.

He reaches for a shirt on the ground, puts it on and swiftly makes his way out of the bedroom, an even more confused expression on his face as he sees Anna in the kitchen, hip pressed against the sink while she flips a couple eggs on the frying pan. Yawning, he drags himself across the living room, hopping on one of the stools by the counter and taking a mouthful of some peanuts he has in a bowl.

"Why don't I remember the fact you slept here?"

"Because you drank one bit too much, brother," she smiles, glancing over her shoulder at Armie, who rolls his eyes. "Don´t give me that look, I´m simply answering your question."

"What are you doing?"

"Eggs and toast," she explains, sliding across the kitchen to reach the toaster. She takes the two slices of bread out of it and places down on a plate, sliding back to the stove afterwards to place the fried eggs. "You´re in need to go grocery shopping, Armz, there's barely anything in the fridge."

"I´ll call the grocery store and ask them to deliver."

Anna chuckles, hopping on the stool opposite from Armie, the plate resting in between them as she reaches for two mugs and slides one in his direction.

"Such an easy life you got."

"Says the girl who never worked in her life," he fires back, smirking as she rolls her eyes. "What? Don't act as if I'm lying."

"You know, sometimes hating you is so damn easy."

"Too bad you love me more than anything."

"Too bad indeed," she chuckles, leaning closer to pinch his cheeks. "You should get started with breakfast, otherwise you might be late for work."

"I wouldn't mind being late today," he shrugs. "Or not making it at all."

"Are you trying to run away from your boy?"

"He's not my boy."

"But you wish he was."

"Oh, for fuck´s sake, just eat your breakfast."

Anna laughs, taking a bite of her egg as she stares at Armie, who shakes his head and reaches for his phone, scrolling through some of the news. She fills up her mug with coffee, takes a couple of sips of it and then sighs, her fingernails tapping on the granite counter.

"If you have something to say, Anna, just say it," Armie eventually says, not even glancing up at her. He knows her mannerisms enough to know exactly what they mean. "I rather that than hear your fingernails while they ruin my countertop."

"Would you mind if I hung out at the company today?," as Armie raises his gaze to her, Anna bites her lip, blue eyes filled with hope. "I promise I won't disturb anyone and keep myself as quiet as possible."

"And why on earth would you want to spend the day at the company?"

"It's just been a while and I would like to see how things are going over there," she shrugs. "It is my company too after all."

Armie bursts out laughing, wrinkles showing up on the corner of his eyes. "You almost got me. Seriously, you got me until you came up with that ridiculous thing at the very end."

"What? The company is also mine, Armand."

"And yet you always made sure everyone knew you didn't care about it, so don't try to play that card with me right now, because it ain´t working," he winks, takes a sip of his coffee and hops off of the stool. "The only reason why you want to go there today is because you want to see Timothée. And since I can´t really stop you from entering the building, you do whatever the hell you want as long as you don't annoy any of my employees, is that okay?"

Anna nods, biting her lip as she tries to hold back a smile.

"And when I say employees, Timothée is included in that, so just stay away."

"Okay, now you´re asking a bit too much."

"Anna!"

"I will try to behave, but I can´t make any promises... I am a Hammer after all.”

Armie rolls his eyes, but finds it hard to suppress a smile from coming to the corner of his lips. Anna always seems to find a way to get to him.

  
  
  


* * *

  
  


The weather only seems to get worse as the hours past, the clouds get darker, the wind stronger and the rain is constant. Despite that, Timothée wanders inside the main building on campus with a large smile plastered on his face, excitement consuming him as he starts to count down the hours until he signs the contract and officially becomes the newest employee of Hammer Graphic Design and Marketing.

He takes a few sips of his coffee, turns a corner and immediately spots Jackson and Chloe further away, both of them leaned against the wall, Chloe with her phone shoved on Jackson's face. He bites his lip and quickens his pace, nearly jumping on top of his friends as he approaches them.

"Jesus," Jackson recoils, a frown on his face. "Well, someone woke up in a good mood."

"Did you get laid last night and didn't tell us about it?"

"What?," Timothée chuckles, shaking his head. "You think the only thing that makes me happy is sex, Chloe?"

"Not the only thing, but it's definitely on the top three."

"You´re not entirely wrong," he admits, shrugging his shoulders. "But that's not why I am happy."

"Then will you tell us why?"

"I got the job."

"What?"

"I got the job, guys."

"Do you mean you got hired at Hammer Graphic Design & Marketing?," Jackson asks, just to make sure he has everything figured out. "Is that what you're telling us?"

"Are you guys deaf or something? Yes, I got hired at Hammer Graphic Design & Marketing. I'm heading there after class to sign up the papers, but my official first day is tomorrow."

"I told you to be optimistic about things, didn´t I?," Chloe smirks. "You guys seriously need to listen to me more often, I always know what I'm talking about."

"That´s a stretch," Jackson mocks, nudging her gently. "But I'm glad you got the job you so badly wanted, Tim, getting a job like this one while still in college doesn't happen very often. I can only imagine how stoked you are about this."

Timothée nods, although the smile on his face slowly fades away, which brings a confused expression to his friends faces.

"What?," Chloe asks. "What's wrong?"

"You don´t think he hired me because I slept with him, do you?"

"What?," both Jackson and Chloe say in unison, stealing a quick glance at one another before turning back to Timothée.

"Look, this job is everything I've ever dreamt of and I am thrilled to have got it, but do you think there's any chance he only hired me because I slept with him? I mean, he definitely wouldn't be the first to do so."

Jackson shakes his head, gripping onto his friend's shoulder and pulling him closer. "Okay, stop what you´re doing right now and focus on me."

Timothée simply nods, biting his lip.

"I´m not gonna let you down this rabbit hole right now, Tim. You got hired because you´re good and they could see that, so stop overthinking things and just focus on how incredible this opportunity is, how far you can go in that company and the impact it will have on your future. Forget everything else and just focus on that for now, alright?"

Timothée glances at Chloe, who gives him the warmest of the smiles and then nods slowly. "You´re right, I mean, if his reaction to seeing me there was any indication, I am sure he would rather not have me working there, so if he did hire me is because he could tell I was the right person for the job."

"Exactly," Jackson assures him, a small smile on his lips. "He clearly cares enough about the company to know how to separate things, so I don´t think you´re gonna have that much trouble moving forward."

"And remember that if you feel like things are a bit too much, you can always try to talk to him and get this whole thing sorted out," Chloe adds. "I am sure he also has been through a lot the last two days, so talking might actually do some good, even if it might be awkward at first."

"Thanks, guys."

"So," Chloe says excitedly, clapping her hands together. "Are we celebrating tonight?"

  
  
  


* * *

Timothée was way too into his head the first time he walked into the building, thinking of all the things that could go wrong during the interview and the pressure he was feeling. But things were different now and he took his time to look around every little corner his eyes could reach, from the minimalist sign at the front of the building that reads Hammer in bulk letters, to the extremely well decorated lobby, with two main desks and a small waiting room.

There were stairs on each side of the room and in the middle two elevators, with small plaques on each side indicating what companies were on each floor. The whole building was owned by the Hammer family and their office was on the twentieth -and last- floor, which provided an incredible view of the city. Or at least that's what he can remember from his last visit.

He presses the button, foot tapping on the floor as he takes on a deep breath, trying his very best not to let his emotions get the best of him. It's not only that he needs this job, but he truly wants to show people his worth, make his family and himself proud by growing in the company and accomplishing all his dreams. He needs this to work and for it to happen, he needs to be on his best behavior, which also includes keeping himself chill while around Armie.

And Timothée has absolutely no doubt that is going to be the hardest part of it all.

As the doors open, he immediately gets in, pressing the button to the twentieth floor. Just as the doors are about to close though, a foot comes in between and stops them. Timothée is taken back at first, but simply stares as a woman squeezes herself through the gap and enters the elevator, her blonde hair cascading down her shoulders and her red lipstick perfectly applied on her lips.

"What's your floor?," he asks, pointing to the keyboard.

"Seems like we're going to the same place," is all she replies.

Timothée nods, crosses his arms and leans back against the wall. He bites his lip, the silence that usually takes place when you find yourself with a complete stranger in the elevator, something he has always found to be unsettling. Not that he enjoys the people who try to force a conversation out of him either, but at least in that situation he can feel annoyed, which in his experience is better than being completely unaware of what to do.

"This might sound weird," the woman says out of the blue, catching Timothée's attention. "But I really loved your jacket."

"Oh," he chuckles. "Thank you."

"Where did you get?"

"A thrift shop."

"Seriously? I might be going to the wrong ones or not looking at things the right way, but I've never seen something so cool in the ones I go to."

"This is a block away from Columbia," he explains, visibly proud to be giving fashion advice to the woman, who looks impeccable in her skinny jeans, light grey sweater and black boots. "Is a small boulevard, with tons of edgy stores and art galleries. Sadly, it's not really well known, but it has incredible stuff."

"I'll make sure to check it out."

"I think you'll be pleasantly surprised."

"Thank you."

She smiles just as the ping echoes in the elevator and the doors open, revealing the headquarters of the Hammer office. Timothée follows the woman out of the elevator, his eyes wandering around the place, seeing as people busy themselves with work, but also gather around a small table drinking coffee or sit on the large couches by the window, sketching things and talking.

He smiles, eager to be part of the team, to find his place among his peers and eventually grow inside the company. He takes a breath, turns to the woman, who's still standing beside him and stands his hand out for her.

"Sorry, I didn't even introduce myself," he chuckles. "I'm Timothée Chalamet."

"Timothée," she repeats, a large smile spreading across her lips. "I'm Anna Hammer."

"Hammer?," he cocks an eyebrow and judging by the little laugh she produces, Timothée knows right now he is as pale as a ghost. "As in..."

"As in Armie's sister."

Her reply could mean a lot of things, but her choice of words comes with a lot of meaning in between the lines. She could have said Mr. Hammer's sister, or simply explain she was the owner's daughter, but no, she chose to say Armie's name specifically, which could only mean one thing. She knew what had happened between them.

"It was a pleasure to finally meet you, Timothée."

And with that she's gone, waving and smiling as she walks past people, her blonde hair swaying from side to side. Timothée gulps, scratches the back of his neck and sighs. Is it possible that he will get to meet anyone in this family in a normal way?

  
  


* * *

Armie blocks out the voice of his father and sister, his mind already filled with too many thoughts for him to pay attention to anything else. Meetings with possible new clients are often tiring, with him doing his very best to prove his point and illustrate exactly why his company is the best for the job at hand. But that is not even the sole reason why he feels drained already, today that is all Timothée´s fault.

Ever since he woke up, Armie has been trying to condition himself to his new reality, one in which Timothée is his subordinate and he no longer can find himself having sexual thoughts of him. What happened that night is in the past now and he needs to move forward, bury any thought of it and focus on the future, make sure he extracts the best out of Timothée´s talent and use that in his company's favor, like he does with every single one of his employees.

He sighs, arms crossed as he glances down at the busy streets of New York, watching as people rush from one side to the other. From up there, they look almost like ants, completely unaware that they are being watched. He finds some sort of comfort standing there, losing himself in the sight, wondering what goes on through their minds instead of focusing on his own internalized problems.

Once the door opens and the clicking sound of his Megan´s stilettos fills the air, Armie glances over his shoulder, his eyes immediately falling on Timothée. He's wearing fitted black jeans, a white shirt and black jacket, his curls slightly tamed, and although some insist on falling down his forehead and on his eyes, Armie can clearly see a mixture of excitement and apprehension on them.

Perhaps he is not the only one struggling with their new dynamic, which in some way makes Armie feel slightly better with himself. Things unraveled in quite a weird way, in a matter of days they went from random hookup to boss and employee, it was normal -and expected- that they felt uneasy and confused.

In silence, Armie takes a few steps closer to the large desk that fills up the conference room, attentively watching the exchange between Timothée and his father. They have wide smiles on their faces, and the way they talk would fool anyone into believing they´ve known each other for years. While he doesn't know why his father has grown so fond of Timothée in such a short time, Armie can´t really blame him. The moment he laid eyes on Timothée, he knew he was the kind of person that charmed people easily.

"...and I'm really glad you´re going to be part of our team."

"You have no idea how proud I am to be part of this team, Sir."

Armie looks down, a sigh escaping him. He can tell by the tone of Timothée´s voice how genuine he is being, which only makes him feel bad for thinking -even if only for a moment- of sabotaging his chances.

"You already met Armie," Douglas´s voice fills up the air and Armie quickly glances up, watching as his father takes Anna´s hand on his. "And this is my daughter, Anna."

"We´ve already met, dad."

Armie frowns, his eyes immediately wandering to Anna, who turns to him with a look that is supposed to say  _ sorry _ , although he can tell by the small smile that forms in her lips that she is absolutely loving the situation.

"We got on the same elevator and managed to talk a little bit," she shrugs. "Timothée even gave me some fashion tips."

_ Of course he did _ , Armie tells himself while shaking his head. He only asked for one thing and she obviously had to do the complete opposite. As always.

"Shall we begin?," Armie says before Anna can start another rant about her clothes. "I´m sure Timothée has better things to do then hear you talking about your clothes, sister."

"He seemed pretty keen on it earlier," she protests, earning a glare from Armie. "Fine, we´re here for business."

Armie nods, a serious expression on his face as he points to the chair nearest to Timothée, urging him to sit down. He waits until both his father and Timothée are settled, sits down and takes one of the files in his hands, going through a few papers. He takes one in particular and slides it across the table to Timothée, their eyes meeting for the first time ever since he walked into the room.

"This is the contract," Armie says after a moment, shielding himself behind his professional persona. "It's the exact same one we sent to your email, but please, we encourage you to take another look at it. We want to make sure everything is alright."

"I'm sure it is."

Timothée´s eyes linger on him for a brief second before he turns them down to the contract, which he reads with care. Leaning back on his chair, Armie watches him, paying close attention to how his curls fall down his face or the way his lips twitch when he concentrates. When Timothée moves slightly on the chair and arches his back, Armie has to grip tightly onto the chair arms and hold a breath.

"You´re drooling," Anna whispers in his ear before taking a seat beside him, her lips curved into a small, but wicked smile.

Obviously, she is loving every single second of this, seeing her brother crumble when he usually is such a collected man in the office.

"Shut up," he mouths back at her, rolling his eyes. He turns back around, glancing over at his father, who luckily has his attention focused on Timothée, who is by now signing up his name on the dotted line.

And just like that, the fact Timothée is officially his employee starts to sink in. He tries his best to put on a smile, pretend everything is fine, but he finds it hard to do so. No matter how much he tries, Armie can´t help but go back to that night and see Timothée on his knees, his mouth full of his cock, his cheeks puffed and his eyes watering. He swallows dryly, takes a deep breath and tries to calm himself down before something worse can happen.

The last thing he needs right now is to get a boner in front of his father and his sister.

"Anything else?," Timothée asks, his eyes finding his once again.

"Our HR team will provide anything else you might need," Armie explains, taking the papes with him, leaving Timothée only with a copy of the contract. "But feel free to ask us any questions you might have."

There is a brief moment of silence, but Timothée eventually shakes his head. "I think I'm good."

"Then welcome to the team, Timothée," a small smile spreads across Armie´s lips as he stands his hand out for Timothée, who seems to hesitate for a second before actually shaking it. "We are really glad to have you here with us."

"Thanks, Mr. Hammer."

There's something about the way the words roll out of Timothée´s tongue that leaves him on the edge, that paired with his intense gaze nearly make Armie lose his balance. If he could, he would slam him down on the table, peel his clothes off of him and ravish his body just like he did a couple of nights ago. And maybe he is projecting his own feelings onto Timothée, but at that moment in particular, Armie can swear he wants the exact same thing.

  
  


* * *

He simply can´t take Armie out of his mind. No matter how much he tries, Timothée constantly finds himself back to the moment he entered the conference room to find Armie standing by the window, dressed in a black suit that hugged his body perfectly and highlighted the blue in his eyes. He barely even looked in his direction, said only a couple of words and yet, every single one of them had an effect on Timothée, who found himself unable to sit up straight when he felt his stare.

If they had been alone in that room, Timothée could have sworn he wouldn't be able to control himself and would most likely end up doing something he would regret. But how on earth do people even manage to stand in front of Armie without turning into a pile of goo? The man exudes power, his eyes pierce through your soul and on the rare occasions a smile creeps on his lips, it seems like it can light up the entire room.

He is everything Timothée ever wanted in a man, even if he only realized it once he met him. But that obviously didn't matter any longer, because he had signed the contract, HR had already provided him with a credential, he was Armie´s employee, their night together was nothing more than a loving memory and he had to get used to it.

With a sigh, Timothée leans back, scratches the back of his neck and shuts down his computer, pushing it aside. He pushes himself up, takes his mug with him to the kitchen and grabs a kettle, pouring it some water just as someone knocks on the door.

Aware the only people allowed in are Chloe and Jackson, Timothée shouts from the kitchen, smiling as Chloe pokes her head in and waves over at him. He gestures for her to come in and adds more water into the kettle, placing it on the stove afterwards.

"Weren't you supposed to be on a date right now?"

"Oh, I was."

Timothée cocks an eyebrow, leaning against the counter as Chloe makes herself comfortable on his couch, the small blanket covering her legs as she ties her orange hair in a high bun.

"That bad, huh?"

"Remember how I was listing all his qualities to you?," she questions as Timothée nods. "Well, turns out he also likes to list all his qualities and that's pretty much all he did for nearly two hours."

"Yikes."

"Guy was so damn egomaniac, Tim, you have no idea. So I got bored and told him I needed to head back home, tried to call an Uber but that also didn't work either. But since I was close by, I decided to check on you and see if everything's alright."

Timothée suddenly frowns, a cheeky smirk creeping up on his face as he shakes his head.

"You know," he turns around, reaching for the box of tea in the cupboard, glancing at Chloe over his shoulder. "You had me until the whole ‘wanted to check on you’ bit."

"What is that supposed to mean?"

"You live about half an hour away from here, Chloe, I´ve never seen you stop by this late at night if you had any intentions of making back home."

She rolls her eyes, earning a little laugh from Timothée. "Fine, I just wanted to see if you would let me crash here."

"Now we're talking."

"But I really wanted to see how you´re doing," she protests. "I want to know how things went down at the company."

Timothée shrugs, placing one tea bag in each mug and pouring down the water afterwards. He takes the mugs with him, carefully handing one to Chloe as he sits down on the couch, legs crossed as he pulls on the blanket.

"It was better than expected, I suppose. Armie and I didn´t interact much, but it was definitely better than back at the interview."

"That's it? That's all you gotta say?"

Timothée shrugs, blowing on the mug and watching as the steam comes out. "I don´t know what else you want me to say, Chloe. We kept things professional, you know? Talked what we needed to talk, but I was there to sign the contract and get everything sorted at the HR, which I did."

"I was honestly expecting something more juice."

"Like us making out in the conference room of his company?," as Chloe shrugs, Timothée chuckles. "Not gonna lie, the thought did cross my mind."

"I knew it!"

"Still, it was just a thought and will remain like this," he smiles, takes a sip of his tea and sighs. "Oh, there's actually something else, but you might find it just as boring."

"What is it?"

"I met his sister."

"And?"

"And she clearly knows what happened between us."

"Are you serious?"

"Judging by the look she gave me when I said my name and the subtle, but still perceptible looks she exchanged with Armie, yes. I don´t know how much she knows, but she definitely knows something happened. She seems nice though, fun and full of life."

"Aw, look at you, completely head over heels for the whole family."

Timothée sticks his tongue out and gently kicks Chloe under the blanket, laughing as her eyes go wide and she does her best not to spill any tea on herself or the couch.

"Idiot."

"Hey, watch out or you´re gonna have to take the subway back home."

"You wouldn't dare."

Timothée shrugs, smirking. "Try me."


	6. We Were The Song In The Silence

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mr. Hammer, Sir.

Armie is up before the Sun is fully up in the sky, his hair a mess as he stands by the patio, watching as the city comes alive below him. He inhales deeply, closes his eyes for a few seconds and then slowly exhales, trying to settle his mind and body. He has a difficult and busy day ahead of him, many files to go through, new clients to talk to and Timothée to welcome into their team. Obviously, of all these things, Timothée is the one that worries him the most.

He wraps the cloth around his hands and wrists, rolls his shoulder and stretches out his arms until he feels the knots of his muscles come undone. He fixes the punching bag, which hangs from the ceiling, then takes a couple steps back, preparing himself to lay on the first punch. He tries to focus on all the frustrations and anxiety he has inside of him at the moment, mix it all together in one big ball of energy which he will let out with each punch he takes.

And ever so slowly, Armie finds himself relaxing, the sweat dripping down his forehead as he increases his speed and the strength with which he lays each punch. After minutes, Armie can almost forget about everything else that is going on in his life and focus solely on the way the punching bag swings, or how his muscles burn with the impact of each punch, the way his legs move around the floor.

He goes on until his body can no longer take the workout and aches for a break, which he takes by throwing himself down on the lounge chairs, his bottle of water in his hand as he takes a few sips of it. The Sun is already high up in the sky by now, although mostly hidden by the clouds. It´s a surprisingly warm day though and he appreciates the change in temperature, realizing just now that he might be in desperate need of a few days by the beach, enjoying the Sun and the cool ocean water.

He pushes himself up and drags himself across the penthouse, his clothes hitting the floor before he can even make it to the bathroom. The turns on the shower, the cold water washing the sweat away from his body but also relaxing his muscles and bringing him some much needed peace of mind. He runs his fingers through his hair, slides his hands down his naked body, his eyes closed and his mind slowly drifting back to Timothée, the way he stared back at him the previous day and how he barely could control himself as he watched him. 

Armie knew from the moment he laid eyes on him at that bar that there was something about Timothée that spoke to him, which is why he was so glad when they locked themselves in that bathroom, why he left him with his phone number and was glad to have a message from him so early. But now all of that has to be buried deep inside of him, he has to forget about what he made him feel, ignore the way his body seemed to cry out for him, because as of today he was his employee and Armie had promised himself years ago that he would never mix pleasure with work. 

And now it seems like life has found a way to test him on that, a test he's not entirely sure he might be able to succeed on, but he will do whatever it takes to. He sighs, turns off the shower and steps out, reaching for a towel, which he wraps it around his waist as he walks back to the bedroom. He stops in front of the closet, eyes wandering through all of the suits he has hanging there, none of them really appealing to him in this particular morning. 

He settles for some dark jeans and a grey sweater, puts it on and runs his fingers through his hair, trying to get it somewhere near presentable. He makes it to the kitchen, prepares himself some breakfast and quickly eats it all, reaching for his phone and keys once he is done. He leaves the penthouse shortly after eight, goes down to the garage and grabs his motorcycle, riding off of the building and into the busy streets of New York city.

  
  


* * *

  
  


Timothée bites on the pencil, his eyes roaming to the clock that is hanging on top of the blackboard, his mind distant enough for him not to hear a word of what his teacher is currently saying. He sighs, twists the pencil in his mouth and gently taps his index finger on the tip of it, causing it to hit the roof of his mouth.

He groans, slams the pencil down on the table and bites his lip, left foot impatiently bouncing up and down. It's ironic how time seems to slow down once you really want something to happen, the excitement building up deep inside of you, while all around, things seem to be completely static.

He was slightly nervous about this new dynamic, having someone he once slept with being his boss was something he never experienced before, nor had he expected to, but Timothée was surprised to realize that his joy for starting off at the company was bigger than anything. And maybe he would have to endure some awkward moments with Armie, but at the end of the day, if he was professional enough to hire him, it is because he knew they could do this one way or another.

As the clock strikes twelve, Timothée is one of the first to get up, shoving his things inside his backpack and swinging it over his shoulder as he rushes down the classroom. The hallways are busy, students and professors roaming around, most of them in a hurry, just like Timothée himself, who runs down the stairs as fast as he possibly can.

He only stops once he exits the building, inhaling deeply and allowing fresh air to fill his lungs. He takes a quick look around campus, then rushes out, walking down the street until he reaches a small dinner he and his friends usually hang out when they don´t have much money or time. He takes a seat, smiling at some of the servers, who by now all know him.

"Hey Tim, what can I get you today?"

"Cheeseburger with extra fries and a coke, please."

"Coming right up."

"Thank you," he smiles, taking his notebook out of his backpack. He flips through a couple of the pages, finds the last one he used and goes through some of the notes there, frowning as he realizes the amount of schoolwork he actually has.

With work, he won't have as much time to focus on his projects, which will mostly be done at night or on the weekends. And sure, that might mean less night outs with Chloe and Jackson, but he tries to keep in mind that this is his last year of college and not many people in his position get the chance to work at a company like the one he is about to. The Hammers have made a name in the graphic design business and being hired by them is a dream come true, whatever con comes with it, he can handle one way or another.

"Here you go."

He raises his gaze, slightly surprised to see Kylie there already, but a quick glance at the clock and he realizes he's been sitting there for nearly ten minutes already. He smiles, thanks her for the food and quickly takes a bite of his burger, a sigh of contentment escaping him afterwards.

"Is this what you´re having prior to your first day of work?," Jackson asks while sliding to the seat across from Timothée and stealing a fry. "You should be getting some real food, Chalamet."

"Thank you, mother," he mocks, rolling his eyes. "I had to go to the closest place I could find, the last thing I want is to be late on my first day of work."

Jackson nods, reaches for his glass of Coke and takes a couple sips of it. "How you´re feeling about this whole thing, by the way?"

"Work? Despite the fact I have a ton of schoolwork to do and I might not be able to handle it all, I am pretty damn excited," he smiles, leaning back on the seat. "It's not that I didn't believe in myself, because I know my potential, but still, to get a job like this when I haven't even finished college, it can sound a bit surreal at times."

"Maybe not everyone gets this opportunity, but you did and that's a testament to your talent, bro. They could tell how good you would be for their company, so they didn't waste any time in getting a hold of you. You should be really proud of yourself, I know I am."

"Thanks, Jack."

"There´s something else I need to ask though," he steals yet another fry, chuckling as Timothée rolls his eyes. "The whole I slept with my boss thing, how are you dealing with it?"

Timothée shrugs, cleaning the corner of his mouth before taking a few sips of Coke. "Honestly? I find it hard not to think about him, not to remember the minutes we were together in that bathroom, but I also understand that is all in the past now.”

"But you're okay with that?"

"What exactly do you mean?"

"I mean if you think with time the attraction you have towards him will cool down and you´ll be able to see him only as your boss, or there's a chance, even if small, of you actually having deeper feelings for him."

"Are you purposely trying to make me feel even more anxious than I already am, Jack?"

"No, I´m trying to have a honest and open conversation with you, that's all."

Timothée sighs, shrugs his shoulders. "Honestly, I have no idea of what I feel. At first it was just about sex, finding someone sexy that I could spend some time with, but even before it was over, I couldn´t help but think I wanted to see him again, I wanted to be with him again, even if only one more time."

"And now?"

"Now I am confused as hell, but aware that he has some sort of effect over me. My legs go weak whenever I see him and my heartbeat goes off the charts, I never really experienced anything quite like this, but I can´t tell you exactly what it means, not right now at least."

"Right."

"But either way, it's not like there's anything I can do about it, right?," he leans back, hands gripping onto the table. "Whether I have feelings for Armie or not, I´m now his employee and I wouldn't want to make things even more awkward than they already are, or harm his career in any way. I have to believe that we can both work through this thing, be professionals, think about the company and our careers first."

Jackson smirks. "Honestly, judging by how much you freaked out when you found out Armie could be your boss I'm surprised you managed to get yourself together and change your mindset into a more relaxed and controlled one."

"If you had a quick look inside my head, you'd realize it's actually not that easy."

"Well, at least you're trying."

"Pretty much all I can do, right?," he shrugs. "That and do my very best to stay away from Armie as much as possible."

"Kind of hard to stay away from your boss, but you can try not to jump him or do anything that could lead to a harassment lawsuit."

"He makes it very hard though," Timothée admits, a little smirk on the corner of his lips. "I mean, that man in a suit is borderline offensive, Jack."

"Oh, c´mon, you can´t be that thirsty."

"Trust me, if you had had a taste of that man, you'd know what I am going through."

  
  


* * *

  
  
  


It's almost one in the afternoon when Armie drives into the underground garage at the Hammer building complex, parking the motorcycle on his usual spot by the elevators. He sighs, takes off his helmet and hops off, fixing the straps of his backpack before he puts the helmet inside the seat compartment. He nods at one of the security guards and gets in the elevator, pressing the button to the twentieth floor.

As the doors close, Armie leans back against the wall, reaches for his backpack and takes a few files out of it, flipping through the pages of one of them. He frowns, sighs when he realizes he has some very urgent calls he needs to make, but raises his gaze once the elevator comes to a stop and the doors open. He's now on the main floor of the building, where about a dozen people are waiting to get in, one of them in particular catching his attention.

Timothée has his eyes down to the floor, a hand gripping tightly onto the strap of his backpack while he follows the people inside the elevator. It seems to take him a while to realize Armie is standing just a few inches away, but Armie takes that time to eye him up and down, take in every single piece of clothing he is wearing and subsequently, imagine how incredible it would be to take them all off of him. 

When their eyes meet, Armie tries his best to keep his composure and behave like the professional man he has always been. No matter how attracted to Timothée he might be, he needs to condition himself to see him as an employee like all the others, because that's exactly what he is. He puts on a small smile, nods in his direction and watches as Timothée does the exact same, his body seemingly a lot more tense now that he knows they are in the same confined space.

The elevator stops at the twelfth floor, the doors open and people start rushing out, leaving the two of them completely alone and secluded from the rest of the world. Armie tightens the grip on the files, closes his eyes for a brief second and takes in a deep breath, turning to glance down at Timothée.

"Good afternoon."

"Good afternoon."

"Excited for your first day?," he manages to ask, surprised at himself for sounding so collected. 

"I don't think that's enough of a world to describe exactly what I am feeling right now," he says glancing up at Armie, who can see the pure joy in his eyes. "But yes, I am excited, anxious and slightly overwhelmed."

"First day at a new job can be quite daunting," Armie reasons, studying Timothée's expressions. "But you strike me as someone who is in control of their emotions, might even be able to channel all that into something productive."

As Timothée glances up at him again, Armie sees a hint of a smile on his lips, but mostly surprise in his eyes. Maybe because of how openly Armie was talking to him, or maybe because what he said wasn't far from the truth. 

"Anyway," Armie clears his throat, averting his eyes from Timothée. "I am glad to have you in our team, Timothée. I can see your enthusiasm to start the job, and that paired with the talent you have already shown us, tells me you have a lot of room for growth here."

Armie watches as Timothée's lips quiver in the attempt to say something back, but once the elevator comes to a stop and the doors open, exposing them to the rest of the world once again, he refrains to silence. Armie sighs, steps out of the elevator and takes a quick look around the place before turning back to Timothée, whose green eyes are wide with a mix of excitement and worry.

Looking down at him, Armie can't help but smile, the joy that radiates from Timothée so pure and contagious. He doesn't get to see much of that anymore, people who are truly in love with their job and proud to be where they are. Timothée is a refreshing sight for sore eyes, in more ways than one.

"Why don't you come with me and I'll show you your desk," Armie gestures for Timothée to follow him and leads him through the room. They stop near a window and Armie leans against the desk, which has a computer, a drawing board and a notebook with the company's logo engraved on the cover. "This is your desk, which you can fill up with anything you might find useful. I got Megan to chaperone you for the day, so if you need anything she will be able to help you. Also, if you have any questions, don't hesitate to ask her or anyone else around here, we'll all be glad to help you settle down."

Once again, all Timothée does is nod and Armie smiles, pushing himself off of the desk.

"Welcome to the team, Timothée. I hope you'll find yourself at home here."

"I'm sure I will."

Armie nods, goes to pat his back, but decides against it. He turns on his heels, takes a couple steps forward and then stops, Timothée's voice filling his ears.

"Arm..," as Timothée stops himself mid sentence, Armie glances over his shoulder, just in time to see him shake his head. "Mr. Hammer, I wanted to thank you once again for the opportunity."

"You're welcome."

Armie smiles, gives him a quick nod and then walks to his office, glancing back at Timothée once again. By now he's talking to Megan, who explains something to him while he chuckles and nods his head, clearly already at ease with his colleague. Armie bites his lip, his eyes lingering on them for a minute more before he actually opens the door and enters his office, his eyes immediately falling on Anna, who stands by the window, watching the city.

He walks over to his desk, drops down the files he had in his hand and joins his sister, gently nudging her. She glances at him with a stern look, but all it does is make him laugh; as annoying as Anna can be sometimes, it feels good to have her around.

"Should I be scared that you´re here for the second time in a row? You must be sick or something, I should probably get a doctor to check on you."

"I love when you try to be funny, big brother."

"Excuse me?," he pretends to be offended, a hand resting on top of his chest as Anna chuckles. "I am a funny man, alright?"

"You´re a lot of things, Armz, but funny isn't exactly a word I usually use to describe you."

"I don't even wanna know the words you use to describe me."

"Oh shut up," she rolls her eyes, nudging him in the stomach as he laughs. "So, is Timothée here already?"

"Just arrived. We got in the same elevator, managed to talk a little bit and it wasn't as disastrous as I thought it would be."

Anna nods, a smirk appearing on her lips as she turns to face Armie. "It's funny how the universe seems to be doing everything it can to bring you two together, don't you think?"

"This is not a joke, Anna," he sighs, leaning back against the window, arms crossed as he looks down at his shoes. "He is incredibly talented, his resume is nearly perfect and he is genuinely happy to work here, but I'm back to questioning if this was a good idea or not. I'm not entirely sure I can do this."

"Do what? Keep you dick in your pants and be a good boss?"

"For fuck's sake, Anna," Armie shakes his head, pushes himself out of the window and sighs, scratching his beard. "You don't understand what's happening in my head right now. This guy, he has a weird effect on me, okay? It's different from everything I have experienced before and I can barely put into words."

There's a moment of silence and Armie frowns, glancing up at Anna, who doesn't usually stay quiet for this long. 

"What?"

"Armie, are you in love with him?"

"What? Where is that coming from?," she shoots him a look and Armie shakes his head, a little chuckle escaping him. "This is ridiculous, Anna. We were together for a night, fuck not even that, just for about an hour."

"Being in love with someone has absolutely nothing to do with time, Armz. Now, I've seen you go out with many people, men, women, whoever gave you the chance and you never, not even once, had a problem forgetting about them."

"Doesn't mean I am in love with him."

"Okay, then tell me, what makes Timothée any different?"

"I don't know," he says a little louder, buries his face in his hands, inhales and then exhales slowly before turning his eyes back to his sister, shrugging his shoulders. "I don't know."

"Alright," Anna nods, her hand landing on Armie´s shoulder. "I don't know what's going on, brother, but there is definitely something different about Timothée, something that draws you in and you need to figure out exactly what that is before it eats you alive. You want to be a good boss, keep this relationship strictly professional? Then start by taking some time to think things through and figure out exactly what you´re feeling."

Armie sighs, eyes down for a second, before he nods.

"Maybe you are right."

"I am," she smiles and plants a kiss on his cheek. "I´m gonna go now, I know you have work to do."

"I have, way more than I would like."

"Liar, you absolutely love your job."

"Doesn't mean I don't get tired sometimes," he winks, kisses her forehead as she holds onto his biceps. "I'll see you later."

"Take care of yourself, brother, and remember I´ll always be here if you need anything," she winks, pinching his cheek. "Although that doesn't mean I will stop teasing you about all of this."

"I wouldn't expect anything less from you."

"Glad you know me," she says while taking a few steps back, a cheeky grin on her face. "Love you."

"Love you, too."

  
  


* * *

  
  


Timothée plays with the small piece of paper in between his fingers, his eyes distant as he thinks back to the conversation he had with Armie in the elevator, how casual he sounded, a much different tone than the one he took during the previous encounters. He even allowed himself to smile, a proper and large one, which caused his knees to buckle and his heart to skip a beat. It seemed when it came to Armie, even the most insignificant of the movements could have an effect on him and that was daunting, but also thrilling and new. 

He definitely would need some time getting used to it all, specially since for once he had to suppress his feelings and urges, remind himself that the man he was so acutely attracted to, was now his boss and therefore, someone he needed to stay away from. Still, the more he thought about the situation, the more Timothée wanted to know about Armie and his life, what he was like behind the scenes, the layers in between the professional business man and the man who ravished him at a bar´s bathroom.

"Hey there, green eyes."

Timothée chuckles, glancing up at Megan, who leans against his desk, her red lips curved into a smile. "Is that my new nickname?"

"Only until I can find one more suitable," she shrugs. "Or until I learn to spell your name properly."

"C´mon, it's not that difficult."

"Of course not, you´ve been saying it your whole life."

"Touché."

She chuckles, turning to lean her elbows down on the desk, her curly black hair falling down her face. "I´m heading downstairs to get some coffee and much needed fresh air, you wanna join me?"

Timothée frowns, bites his lip and looks down at his desk, his notebook resting beside the computer, along with a pile of his schoolwork which he surprisingly managed to work on. 

"C´mon, it's your first day, you barely have anything to do."

"Yeah, I guess you are right," he shrugs, pushing himself up from the chair. "And I could really use a Caramel Macchiato."

"I knew I had a reason to like you," she jokes, linking her arm with his as they walk to the elevator. "Even your taste for coffee is spectacular."

"And what other things about me you find spectacular?," he muses, pressing the button in the elevator and watching the doors close. "Because now I'm really curious."

"I paid really close attention to your outfit every single time you walked through my desk and believe me, I loved every single one of them. You´re stylish, but you still manage to look approachable and not like those people who think they are better than others just because of how they dress."

"Wow, you got all of that just from the way I dressed?"

Megan shrugs, pulling her curly hair up in a messy bun.

"I like it though, not gonna lie," he chuckles, glancing around the lobby once the doors open again. He follows Megan across the lobby, watches as she waves at some of the people that pass them by and smiles, noticing just how friendly she seems to be with everyone. As they cross the street, Timothée notices a small cart by the square, with a line that resembles only to the ones he's seen in Starbucks. "Guess people really like this coffee, huh?"

"Best one in the area," she explains, crossing her arms, a little smirk spreading across her lips. "So, Anna?"

"She's really nice, isn't she? Even talked about us going out for a couple of drinks someday."

"She's really a terrific woman, very nice to everyone in the office, but she hardly ever pops up, so seeing her there two days in a row got me a bit confused, but then it finally dawned on me the reason why."

Timothée frowns, staring at Megan for a second, before he bursts out laughing.

"What? You think she's into me?"

"Don´t you?"

"No, not really. And even if she was, she sadly wouldn't get anything from me."

"Oh, I see, you´re more into the brother."

"What?"

"Oh c´mon, no need to be coy, basically every single person in this office, men or women, have or has had a crush on Armie."

"Armie?," he asks slightly amused, cocking an eyebrow.

"You´re new here, but you'll soon realize that Armie doesn't really care about nomenclatures. At first everyone is always calling him Mr. Hammer and being super tense around him, but eventually everyone sees that he is quite the cool boss, actually."

"You seem to know him pretty well. How long have you been working here?"

"I got hired as an intern about six years ago when Armie was still part of the creative team, but then about a year later his father decided to step back a little and named him the new CEO of the company. He wanted a team to work directly with him, a few counselors and a personal secretary, so he offered me the position and I obviously said yes."

Timothée nods, a smile on the corner of his lips. While he had noticed Armie was a good man, it didn't hurt to actually hear from others who have been around him for longer.

"And like I was saying, basically every person in this office has or has had a crush on the guy, but we can´t really blame them, can we? I mean, look at him."

"He is a very attractive man."

"Not only that, he's nice, intelligent and professional. I mean, he is known for having his affairs and he is not ashamed of it, but he has never, not once, hooked up with an employee."

Timothée smacks his lips together at her words, trying his very best to keep himself together and not let it show too much. While Megan looks like an extremely nice woman, he really can´t have her knowing what happened between him and Armie.

"That´s...," he sighs. "That's very noble of him."

"And trust me, it's not for lack of trying, because I know of people who have done everything they could to get into his pants, but he always said no."

Timothée tries, but he simply can´t find any words to keep the conversation going, anything he might say at this point could lead to disastrous consequences. 

"Megan," the man´s voice interrupts their conversation and Timothée allows a sigh of relief to escape him. "What can I get you today?"

"Two Caramel Macchiatos and the big boss´s usual."

"Red Eye?"

As Megan nods, the man smiles and turns on his heels, grabbing three cups from the pile. She watches in silence as the man prepares their coffee, smiling wide when he hands the two macchiatos, the smell taking over the place.

"God, this is great," Timothée nearly moans after taking a sip of his, licking his lips. "I might become addicted."

"I told you it was the best coffee in the area."

"The boss's Red Eye," the man interrupts, handing Megan the last cup. "Have a good afternoon."

"Thanks, Greg."

Timothée nods towards the man and then rushes after Megan, who is already crossing the street. He takes a couple more sips of his coffee, leaning against the wall as they wait for the elevator.

"So, anything else I need to know to get by?"

She shrugs. "I don´t think there´s much else you need to know, to be honest. Armie is thorough, he likes his job to be done well, but he doesn't rush his employees and understands everyone has their time. Our coworkers are also pretty chill, so we usually have a very calm environment, unless there´s one of those really big projects where mostly everyone is involved and we have a very short deadline."

"Okay, I can work with that."

"Oh, there is one thing you need to know."

"Which is?"

"The last Friday of every month, we all go to a bar to have some drinks, with Armie and Anna usually joining us. Is the only tradition around here she actually partakes."

Timothée chuckles, but mostly to hide the fact in a few weeks he might find himself back in a bar with Armie. As the elevator arrives, they both get in, his mind processing every single detail he heard in the last ten minutes. He sighs, gripping tighter onto his cup and bites his lip as they arrive back at the office, which seems to be a lot more vivid than it was when they left. As they walk back to his desk, a phone goes off and Megan groans, shoving one of the cups on Timothée´s hand.

"I need to take that, can you give Armie his coffee, please?"

"What?"

"Just knock on the door and hand it over, green eye, it's not like he is gonna bite you."

Not sure I would mind that, he thinks to himself as Megan chuckles, patting him in the shoulder before rushing over to her desk. He sighs, places his cup down and then slowly makes his way over to Armie´s office, stopping by the door, his hand hanging up in the air.

"Just do it," Megan mouths from her desk, pointing over to the door.

Timothée nods, knocks on the door and opens it slowly once he hears Armie´s thundering voice. He swallows dryly, his eyes immediately finding him on the couch, leg crossed as he flips through a couple of pages in a file. When he raises his gaze and their eyes meet, Timothée can see his jaw clench, a glimpse of tiredness in his eyes and a load of papers and files surrounding him on the couch; clearly he is having a busy afternoon. 

"Megan asked me to hand you your coffee."

"Oh," Armie nods, pushing himself up. He's wearing more casual clothes this afternoon, his sweater hugging his body perfectly, accentuating all the muscles in his arm. It takes him about three steps to close the gap between them, Timothée´s eyes on him until he reaches out for the cup and their hands brush against one another. "Thank you."

"My pleasure."

  
  


* * *

  
  
  


Timothée is one of the last people to leave the office, his backpack hanging from his left shoulder and a folder on his arm. He didn't have much to do, which was expectable from his first day of work when he didn't have any project assigned to him, but he was happy he got to be there, talk to his colleagues, get to know more about the company itself and how things worked on a daily basis. He also enjoyed the fact he could take advantage of the company's resources on his schoolwork, which could grant him better grades.

Surprisingly enough, everything seemed to be going down the right path and Timothée was excited about it, happy to have been proven wrong. In the end it seemed like Chloe was right and he needed to have a little bit more faith in life, trust that everything that happens, as weird as it may be, might actually be a good thing. And if things kept going on the same trajectory as it is right now, Timothée could see himself settling in on the company, finding his place among his peers and perhaps even growing.

He snaps out of his thoughts when the elevator doors open, revealing a quite busy lobby. He notices the influx of suited men, most of them carrying briefcases on their hands and with very serious expressions on their faces. When he thinks back to how most of the people at their company dresses, he can´t help but chuckle at the contrast.

His phone buzzes and he reaches for it on his back pocket, noticing at least a dozen messages from the group chat with Chloe and Jackson. He doesn't read them right away, not that he really needs it, he knows exactly why they are texting him and so he knows they can wait a little bit longer for an answer. He steps out of the building, eyes glancing around the street, the sky turning a darker shade of blue, the stars already starting to pop up here and there. He smiles, hears the sound of an engine and looks over his shoulder, biting his lip as he sees Armie ride off of the underground garage in his motorcycle. He's got his helmet on, but the lid is open, allowing him to take a quick glimpse at his face as he rides past him. 

"Of course he had to ride a motorcycle," he mumbles to himself, smirking as he walks down the street, his mind taking him to places he shouldn't really go. But after seeing that, it's hard not to imagine Armie riding down a dusty road, sunglasses on, leather jacket and him on the back, holding tightly onto his waist as he feels the wind on his face. 

Sadly, Timothée is aware that will remain as only a fantasy, a daydream of sorts. Armie is his boss, and no matter what might have happened between them before, it became quite clear to him -after Megan made sure to repeat over and over again- that he was way too professional to allow anything else to happen. Their moment together was in the past and all he could do was relish the memories, because that's all he would ever have.

* * *

  
  


Timothée takes the stairs two steps at a time, his backpack starting to feel heavy on his shoulder, while the folder on his hand seems to weigh a ton, even when he knows that is far from reality. It's been an eventful day, he had to endure an entire morning of classes, even if he barely paid attention to any of them; had to go through the internal struggle that consumed him as he tried to find a way to keep himself calm amid the situation and most importantly, facing Armie in the hallways, in the elevator or the simple fact of knowing he was just a few feet away kept him on the edge the entire time, even if he did his best not to let it show.

Now as the night falls, all he wants to do is sit down on his balcony, drink something and have a nice meal, maybe watch the city below him for a couple of hours before he can dive into his bed and let himself drift off to sleep. After all, the next day awaits him with the exact same predicament; college, work and the constant struggle to keep himself collected while staring at his hot boss, who he can still taste against his lips if he closes his eyes and allows himself to drift back to that fateful night.

"There he is," he hears a voice echo the moment he reaches the last step on the stairs and glances up, a frown as he sees Jackson and Chloe sitting on the hallway floor, each one of them with a little bag of fries in their hands. "Where have you been, dude?"

"Working," he says matter of factly as he approaches them. "Then I had to stop at the grocery store. What are you two doing here anyway?"

"You really think we'd just wait until you arrived at campus tomorrow to hear the news?"

"News? What news?"

"You know exactly what we want to know, so don´t pretend to be dumb, Chalamet."

He sighs, unlocks the door and pushes it open, allowing them both inside before he can close it. He throws his backpack on the floor by the couch, sets the folder down on the coffee table and kicks off his shoes, a sigh of relief escaping him.

"I hope you two brought me burgers too, otherwise I´m just gonna kick you out and say nothing."

"Double cheddar with crisp bacon and extra fries," Jackson slides the brown paper bag in his direction, a cheeky grin on his face. "So feel free to sit down and tell us everything we need to know."

"Yep, I want all the details, even the sordid ones."

"You two are just plain annoying, you know that, right?"

"And yet you love us," Chloe pulls him closer, smacking her lips against his cheek in a wet and loud kiss. "Now quit stalling, tell us how was your first day at Hammer Graphic Design and Marketing."

"Well, it was definitely better than expected. I ran into..."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I want to thank you guys once again for the support towards this fic, I absolutely love reading your comments and seeing what you think might happen next 😉


	7. Is It Better To Speak?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Strengthening Ties

The Sun is just starting to rise, the shades of orange and blue mixing up in the sky and forming a beautiful skyline that crosses the entire city. Jogging through the streets of Manhattan, Armie has his hoodie on, covering most of his face as the sweat drips down his forehead and back, the muscles on his leg working non stop as he increases the pace of his run every five minutes.

He has his head down for most of the time, his mind clear and his body relaxed, despite the exercise he is doing. After a rather restless night, where he spent most of his time staring out of the glass door into the patio, he finds himself much more centered and calm now, the troubles of his life pushed to the back of his head -even if only for a few minutes- and allowing him to focus on himself.

He slows down to a stop, checks the street before crossing it and rolls out his shoulder, stretches out his arm and controls his breathing, his eyes wandering around the street, catching a glimpse of the city that slowly comes alive. He smiles, pushes down the hoodie of his sweater and with unhurried steps, makes his way back to his apartment building, drinking the remains of water on his bottle on his way over.

He greets some of the staff, makes sure to stop by the front desk at the lobby and say good morning to the ladies who have just arrived and then makes it to the private elevator, pressing in the code to his penthouse. He sighs, runs his fingers through his hair and pushes some of the strands away from his sweaty forehead. 

As the doors open, he is greeted by the beautiful sight of his balcony being inundated by the sunlight, a view he could easily stare for hours on end. He smiles, heads to his bedroom, kicks off his shoes and takes off his clothes, throwing them over in the laundry basket, before getting in the shower, the warm water cascading down his naked body and washing away all the sweat.

He closes his eyes, hands pressed against the tiled wall, a soft moan escaping through his lips. He tilts his head back, a hand slides down his neck and chest, stopping just above his pelvis; he remains still for a minute, but can´t help but let a small smile spread across his lips when his hand finds his stiffening cock, giving it a few lazy strokes. 

As he picks up a pace, Armie finds himself lost in the moment, his mind obstructing anything else that might be going on in the world, his body reaching a state of tranquillity. He runs his tongue through his lips, clenches his muscles and moans softly, his hand working hard to take him over the edge.

  
  


* * *

  
  


The weather is perfect for being outdoors, the Sun shining bright up in the sky and a nice breeze that hits from time to time. Around the university campus, people gather around the benches and the stairs, either chatting or working on their schoolwork. Some of the staff and teachers also take their time to enjoy the still quiet morning, walking through the campus´s garden.

Cross legged in the middle of the little square, a hand stroking the grass while the other flips through the pages of a book, Timothée secludes himself from the rest of the world. He occasionally reaches for his cup of coffee, sips on it and then focuses back on the book, which he devours with pure glee. 

It's only when a shadow overcomes him that he raises his gaze, squinting his eyes to glance up at Chloe, her orange hair flowing with the breeze. He smiles up at her, closes his book and places it back inside his backpack as she sits across from him, her backpack in between her legs as she reaches out for his cup and sips on it.

"You seem oddly relaxed today," she says, watching as he leans back on his elbows and stares up at the sky. "But I guess all the stress you had about the whole situation with Armie has quieted down now, right?"

"In a way," he shrugs, squinting from the sunlight that hits his eye. "I mean, my first day was pretty damn good considering everything, so I guess it's time for me to calm down and just see how things go?"

"Honestly, I think that's pretty much all you can do. You might go through a couple of awkward moments in the first week or so, but the guy hired you, he saw your potential and if he really is as great of a businessman as people make it sound like, then he´ll know how to build a good relationship with you despite what happened."

"We can always pretend nothing happened."

Chloe frowns, lying down next to Timothée on the grass.

"What? I know that look and it often means you think I´m talking shit."

"You know me so well," she chuckles, nudging him gently. "I just don't think it's healthy for either one of you to pretend it didn't happen, because it might lead to some weird and uncomfortable moments. Maybe what you two need is to actually sit down and discuss what happened, find a way to navigate through it without interfering on your work."

"You actually want me to sit down with my boss and talk about the night we fucked in a bar´s bathroom?"

"Well, when you put it that way," she rolls her eyes, leaning on her elbow so she can look down at him. "I´m just saying, sometimes we need to go through uncomfortable moments to make sure things are solved, you know? I didn't say it was going to be a nice and easy conversation, but I think if it helps your relationship at work, why not give it a try?"

"I can see where you´re coming from, I really do..."

"But?"

"But we don't know what Armie thinks about this situation, Chloe. Yes, he hired me, but I'm pretty damn sure a huge part of it has to do with the fact his father liked me. So I´m not really comfortable bringing up this subject, at least not right now, not until I´m more settled into the company, you know?"

"Yeah, I understand."

As silence takes them over, both of them staring up at the blue sky, Timothée sighs, thinking back to what his friend said. Sure, in an ideal world he and Armie would have the chance to actually talk about what happened between the two of them, but since life wasn't always as one wishes, they were now trapped in a situation that made everything a lot harder. 

"What the fuck are you two doing?," Jackson asks, standing in front of them and blocking the Sun.

"We were enjoying the sunny day, but you just ruined that for us," Chloe says while sitting up. 

"You do know classes start in less than five minutes, right?"

"Already?," Timothée asks, a tone of desperation in his voice. "Shit, I still need to work on my marketing project."

Jackson chuckles, stands his hand out and helps him up, before turning to Chloe and doing the same. 

"Thanks for coming to our rescue, man," Timothée jokes, winking over at Jackson, who simply rolls his eyes. "Although, a part of me wouldn't mind spending the whole morning here."

"It really is a beautiful day," Chloe adds, following her friends down the campus and over to the main building. "Kind of sad we´ll be spending it stuck inside this place."

"Ms. Sunshine ain´t as happy as she used to be."

"Oh shut up."

Timothée laughs, wrapping an arm around Chloe´s shoulder as they take up the steps, a few dozen students walking past them in a rush. He sighs, eyes glancing around the busy building, although his mind is constantly going back to what Chloe said. Maybe talking to Armie, addressing the elephant in the room was a good idea, but he feared he wouldn´t be able to do so, at least not right now.

* * *

  
  
  


There's music playing through the penthouse and the glass doors to the patio are wide open, allowing the sunlight to come in and illuminate the entire place. In the kitchen, shirtless and barefoot, Armie leans his hip against the granite counter, chopping some onions and a few slices of prosciutto, which he adds to a bowl filled with cheese. 

He turns on his heels, his elegant legs moving around the kitchen, reaching for the bowl where the dough for his crepe is. He heats up the frying pan, dumps the dough in it and watches as it slowly becomes more malleable, the corners turning a beautiful bronze color. He flips it, a cheeky smile appearing on the corner of his lips as it lands perfectly back on the pan, much to his own surprise. 

He grabs the filling, dumps it all in and slides the spatula across it, making sure it's all fitting and flips the corners, folding it into a triangular shape. As he lets it heat up for a little more, he turns to the coffee machine and fills up his mug, the smell of coffee mixing with the one that emanates from the crepe and turning the penthouse into a scented heaven. 

He slides the crepe to his plate, hops on the stool and grabs his phone, scrolling through a couple of his new messages as he waits for his computer to turn it on. He takes a bite of the crepe, licking his lips afterwards, his stomach on the verge of growling from hungry. As he takes a few sips of his coffee, his phone starts ringing, Megan´s name lighting up the screen.

"Good morning, boss."

"Good morning, Megan."

"I have some good news for you," she says as Armie cocks an eyebrow. "Mr. Chow cancelled the meeting he had with you later this morning."

"That is good news," he chuckles, stuffing another piece of crepe into his mouth. "Anything else I might need to know?"

"Yes, I have sent you the latest contracts for you to take a look, let me know if you want me to change anything. Also, that new proposal you were looking through yesterday, it should be on your email, so you can evaluate and see who you´re gonna enforce to the task."

"That's all?"

"For now, yes, that's all."

"Okay, I´m gonna take a look at the contracts and the proposal, then I'll text you and let you know if there are any changes you need to make. Any calls?"

"Your father called, but he said it wasn't important, so he might call your phone or try again later."

"I´ll make sure to talk to him," he nods, his finger tracing the brink of the mug. "Since the meeting was cancelled, I´ll be at the office in the afternoon, but if anything comes up, please let me know and I´ll see what I can do about it."

"No worries, boss, everything's good around here."

"Great, take care of everything for me, Megan."

"Like always."

"See you later."

"Bye bye."

Armie hangs up the phone, sliding it away from him along with the plate so he can bring his laptop closer, his eyes attentive to the screen as he logs into his email and opens the contracts Megan has sent to him. He frowns, the tip of his tongue running back and forth on his bottom lip, a common mannerism when he's too focused on something. 

It doesn't take him long to go through the contracts and he makes sure to text Megan straight afterwards, letting her know everything is okay and she can already send them off. He then focuses on the proposal, leaning back against the backrest of the stool, his finger tapping the counter to the beat of the song.

Their new client is a small bilingual school, which focuses on French as a second language and plans on alluring teenagers and young adults. He smirks, his mind swiftly wandering back to one person in particular, someone who probably would be thrilled to have his first official work so soon into his hiring. He grabs his little notepad, adds a couple of notes there and then rips off the page, tucking it under his phone to make sure he doesn't forget about it.

He's about to hop off of the stool as the phone goes off again, a sigh escaping him as he reaches for it. He accepts the call, puts it on the loudspeaker and hops off of the stool, taking his plate and mug with him to the sink.

"What do I owe this call so early to?"

"Good morning to you too, brother. How did you spend the night?"

"Just fine, thank you very much."

"And that thing we talked about yesterday?"

Armie frowns, glancing over his shoulder at the phone.

"Armie?"

"You mean Timothée?"

"I mean your feelings for Timothée."

Armie sighs, turning on the tap to wash up the mug and plate. "Anna, I admit that he's different from other people I've gone out with, I admit that maybe there's more than just sexual attraction going on here, at least from my part, but I also know my place."

"Meaning?"

"Meaning that he is my employee and I should keep things strictly professional between us, like I do with everyone else."

"Are you sure you can do this, brother?"

Armie finishes off the dishes, leans against the sink and reaches for a cloth, drying his hand. He glances out to the balcony, takes in the beautiful morning sky and then grabs the phone and computer in his hand, taking it with him to the living room, where he sits down.

"Look, I was hiding myself behind the excuse that dad was the one who wanted to hire him and I didn't have a choice, but I had one and still decided to give him the job."

"Because you knew he was the best for it," Anna quickly chips in.

"True, but now that I did that, I need to own it. He's my employee and no matter how complicated it might be, I need to learn how to separate things, how to push back what happened between us that night and move forward with my life."

"Okay," there's a pause, in which he can hear Anna sigh. "I´m here for whatever you need, you know that, right?"

"I know."

"And since we´re on the Timothée subject, I was wondering how weirded out you would be if I actually went out for some drinks with him?"

"Excuse me?"

"Not in a romantic way, obviously. But I talked to him yesterday before leaving the company and he's such a nice guy, I think we could get along just fine."

Armie rubs his eyes, a loud sigh escaping him, although he can´t control a small smile from appearing in the corner of his lips.

"Would my answer even matter?"

"Of course it would," she quickly replies. "Armie, you should know by now I might tease you, but I would never do anything that could possibly hurt you or leave you in a complicated situation. If you say it's best not to, I will understand it."

"No, it's okay."

"Really?"

"You have the right to be friends with whoever you want, Anna, even guys I happen to have slept with."

"Good, because otherwise you´d narrow down my options by a lot," her laugh echoes through the phone and Armie smiles. "Okay, so since you´re okay with this, I´ll text him later, see if he wants to do something."

"Just don't talk about me."

"Now you´re asking for a bit too much, aren't you?"

* * *

  
  


The elevator doors open to reveal Timothée, his backpack hanging from his left shoulder as he holds onto two large cups of coffee. He glances around the office as he steps out of the elevator, spotting Megan by Ron´s desk, her elbows leaned against it as she laughs and twists a curl around her finger. He smirks, gently bumping against her as he walks by, catching her attention almost immediately. He gestures with his head, turns around on his heels and heads to his desk, plowing down on the chair with a sigh.

He takes a few sips of his Caramel macchiato, his eyes locked on Megan, who remains in place, a wide smile on her red lips while she listens to whatever Ron is saying. Obviously, their flirting is going strong, because when he reaches out to touch her shoulder, Timothée can see her cheeks flush all the way from his desk. When she finally walks away from Ron, biting her lip as she notices Timothée´s stare, he can´t help but laugh, not really expecting to see this side of Megan.

"I'd love to know what that conversation was all about," he teases as she rolls her eyes. "I got you some coffee."

"Caramel macchiato?"

"Obviously."

"From Greg?"

"Who else?," he shrugs, winking at her as she hops upon his desk and takes a couple of sips of her drink. "So, back to you and Ron..."

"Oh, stop it."

"Oh c´mon, tell me what is going on there."

"Nothing...for now."

"For now? I see," he chuckles, leaning his chair back and setting his feet up on the desk. "He's not really my type, but I can see why you'd like him. Not to mention, he was very welcoming towards me yesterday, made sure we talked and said I could reach out for him if I needed anything."

"He´s a really nice guy and we always got along," she explains, stealing a quick glance at Ron. "But lately things have started to shift a little bit between us."

"I hope it works out," Timothée says, but before Megan can reply anything, the elevator doors open again and a man steps out, his leather jacket falling perfectly down his shoulders, his short black hair styled back and his beard with the appearance of being freshly trimmed. 

He glances around the office, a large smile on his lips as he waves around, greeting everyone. He spots Megan and quickly walks in her direction, making sure to give her a quick hug as he approaches her. Timothée watches the scene in silence, slightly confused on who the stranger might be; clearly he is well known around the office and judging by the surprised expression on Megan´s face, hasn´t been around for a while.

"Matthew, it's really nice seeing you," she says as they pull away from the hug. "I didn't know you were back in town."

"Just for a little while, even you know I can´t stay put for too long."

"I know," she nods, before turning to face Timothée. "This is Timothée, the new member of our team. He started working here yesterday, but he's already a very important asset to the company."

"Am I?," he asks with a frown while Megan simply shrugs. He shakes his head, turns to face the gorgeous man that stands a few inches away from him and stands his hand out. "Nice to meet you."

"Nice to meet you, Timothée. Is the job everything you thought it would be?"

"So far, yes."

"I´m glad to hear it," he smiles, eyes moving back to Megan. "Where´s the boss?"

"At his office, he arrived just a couple of minutes ago."

"How´s his mood?"

"He took the morning off, so I'd say he's in a pretty good mood."

"Lucky me," he smirks, squeezing Megan´s shoulder. "I´ll go talk to him. It was nice seeing you again, Megan."

"Likewise."

"Nice to meet you, Timothée."

"Nice to meet you," Timothée says once more, a little smile on his lips as he watches the man walk away. Once he's far away not to hear them, Timothée turns to Megan, curiosity filling his eyes. "Who is that?"

"Matthew, Armie´s best friend and casual hookup."

"What?"

"Yeah, apparently they hookup sometimes, although Matthew is not the type of person to stay in one place for long. He loves to travel and only shows up here occasionally, so I guess they used to hookup a lot more when they were younger."

Timothée nods slowly, a frown forming on his face.

"How do you even know all of this?"

"Well, I´ve been working here for almost six years, Green Eyes," she smiles, pinching his cheeks. "But Anna also happens to be the type of person who likes to talk and doesn't really have a filter."

"Oh really?," he tilts his head to the side. "I´ll see what I can get out of her tonight."

"Wait, what?," she gets up, pulls a chair closer and takes a seat right in front of Timothée. "I thought you said she wasn't your type."

"And she isn´t," he assures her. "But we talked a little bit the day I came to sign my contract and then again yesterday, we exchanged numbers and she called me earlier today, wondering if I´d like to go out for a couple of drinks with her. And since I´m going out with my friends anyway, I invited her to join me."

"I see, you plan on wooing the whole family, right? You already did a pretty good job with Mr. Hammer senior, because as far as I could tell, he kept gushing about you to Armie until he had no choice but to hire you."

"Oh, so that's why I got the job?"

"Well, that too," she quickly replies. "Is not like Armie would ever hire you if he didn't think you were good for the job."

"Well, Mr. Hammer seemed like a really nice guy, just like Anna seems to be really nice and strangely down to earth considering she´s the heir to a multimillionaire empire."

"He did raise good kids," she admits. "You´re here for only two days, but you´ll soon realize that Armie is also pretty much awesome."

"Yeah, I can tell everyone here really likes him."

"And who wouldn´t?"

* * *

  
  
  


Armie has his head down, eyes deeply focused on the contract that lies on the desk, in his hand a pen, which he gently taps on the desk whenever he's not making any notes. He bites his lip, reaches for his bottle of water and takes a few sips of it just as he hears a knock on the door; he sighs, leans back on the chair and watches as the door opens a bit, Matthew´s face coming to view as he smiles at him.

"Matt? What are you doing here?"

"I came to check on my best friend," he shrugs, closing the door behind him. He takes a quick look around the office, shaking his head as a smile spreads across his lips. "You know, sometimes I still can´t believe you're actually sitting at this desk, running the company and the entire Hammer empire."

"Don´t call it that," he chuckles. "It makes it sound like we´re some evil lords, trying to take over the world."

"I bet some people think you are," Matthew smirks, throwing himself down on the chair across from Armie, his arms crossed and feet almost instantly up on the desk. "So, I just met your boy."

"His name is Timothée and he's not my boy, Matthew."

"Okay, then the guy you wish it was your boy."

"You and Anna have spent way too much time together."

Matthew chuckles. "He seems like a nice guy."

"He is," Armie confirms, nodding his head. "Intelligent and talented too."

"I know it's only been two days, but how has it been working with him?"

"So far so good. We didn't interact much, to be completely honest, but we did manage to talk a little bit yesterday when he arrived. I´m not entirely sure of how things will go on, but I think if we can maintain a cordial and respectful approach to each other, everything's gonna be alright."

"I´m glad to hear that," Matthew smiles, leaning against the desk. "I know how much this company means to you, Armie, I also know how great of a professional you are and that you want the best environment possible for your employees. So, while I know the current situation must be a difficult one, it´s great to see you handling this well."

"I need to deal with the consequences of what I did, right? I mean, yeah, I didn't know he would end up being my employee, but now that he is, I can´t treat him any different just because of what happened between us."

"Agree," he nods. "Are you still keeping it a secret from your dad, though?"

"Oh yeah, that hasn't changed at all."

"And you´re sure this can´t come back to bite you in the ass later on?"

"Of course it could, but I'm holding on to the idea that if this does blow up someday, Timothée will be working here long enough for my dad to understand that whatever happened between us didn´t interfere in us working together."

"Oh, that's actually quite smart."

"Well, I do have a masters degree."

"So do I, my friend."

"Do you? You did spend most of the time sleeping around then actually attending any of the classes, I still don't know how you even managed to get that."

"You´re just jealous I get laid more often than you."

"You do remember most of the times you got laid, I was in the mix, right?"

"Technicalities."

"Very important ones, I would say."

"Not that important actually," he chuckles, eyes moving to the door as it opens. "Oops, is Mr. Businessman being called into action?," he jokes as Megan steps inside the office.

"I don't mean to interrupt you two, but I have a few things for you to approve," she explains, placing the papers down on the table. "Terrance resignation letter is also waiting for your signature."

"Can´t believe we're losing Terrance," he mumbles, scanning through some of the papers, signing them. "But at his age and with his talent, if I had been offered a job like that, I´d also go in a heartbeat."

"He said he's gonna stop by during the week, give everyone a proper goodbye."

"Hope I can catch him," he leans back, stands his hand out for a new wave of papers and shakes his head. "How is it some days it seems like I am drowning in files and contracts, then there are days I should have just stayed home because there is basically nothing for me to do here? Can´t life be a little more balanced?"

"The cons of being the big boss."

"Stop whining," Matthew rolls his eyes. "You were the one who decided to step up when your father said he was taking a time off, now deal with it, Mr. Businessman."

"Hey, I still like my job, I just understand better why my dad decided to step back now," he explains, shrugging his shoulders before glancing up at Megan. "Is that it?"

"For now," she assures him, chuckling as he rolls his eyes. "Oh, I nearly forgot, Mr. Crawford called."

"What does he want now?"

"He wants a meeting with you and your father, he still doesn't think the contract is anywhere near fair."

Armie sighs, rubs his temples and opens one of the drawers on the desk, going through a few business cards and leaflets until he takes one and hands it to Megan, who stares down at it slightly confused.

"A friend of mine worked with this contractor to renovate their home, he had nothing but great things to say about them," he explains, watching as Megan nods her head. He reaches for his notepad, writes a few things down and rips off the page, handing it over to her as well. "Call them, explain the situation and if possible, schedule us a meeting with them. I´m not gonna let Mr. Crawford extort us just because he's been working with the family for years, that's not how it works."

"I´m on it, boss," she nods, rushing over to the door. "Anything else I can do for you?"

"That's all for now, thanks," he smiles, waits until she's out of the office and lets out a loud sigh, his eyes wandering back to Matthew. "Can you believe after years working with my dad, this guy has the audacity to say we're trying to take advantage of him?"

"Are you?"

"Of course not, he's the one who is trying to get a lot more money than he should. I've talked to people, the amount of money he's asking for is beyond the highest price in the market."

"See? I can´t deal with all that stress, that's why I stayed away from the family business."

"Yeah, that's why."

"What? It is!"

"Sure," he mocks, laughing as Matthew throws a pen at him

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry it took a while, but things have been a bit crazy over here. Also, I know this chapter might not be very eventful, but we're starting to build up this new situation and the good stuff is about to start 😉


	8. Cheap Thrills

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A new relationship in the horizon

Timothée huffs as he reaches the last step on the stairs, the tiredness of a whole -and rather crazy- week and the effort of going up five flights of stairs, weighing down on him more than he would like. Perhaps it was time he took Jackson´s offer to help him exercise, because while he sure as hell didn't need it to be fit, he would much appreciate the strength it could provide him.

He glances around the quiet hallway, frowns as he notices a basket on the floor, right in front of his door and quickly rushes to it, taking it in his hands. He stares at it dumbfounded, a part of him expecting the basket to be there by mistake. It wouldn't be the first time someone left something in his door when it was actually an order from one of his neighbors; luckily for him, this time he wouldn't have to go through the awkward moment of handing his fifty year old neighbor a vibrator.

He fishes for his keys and opens the door, kicking it close behind him as he slowly unties the lace on the top of the basket, his eyes immediately landing on the small card that is tucked in between the can of Pringles and the extremely expensive wine bottle. He takes it in his hand, biting his lip as he flips it open, still slightly unsure if he should be going through this at all. When he sees his name in beautiful cursive handwriting on the top, Timothée knows immediately from who it is from and a smile spreads across his lips.

_ Timmy, _

_ Your father and I kept wondering what we could do to celebrate this moment with you, even if from far away. We hope you´re enjoying your new job, one that you have been dreaming of for so long and has finally been graced with. We always knew this day would come and we´re extremely proud of you.  _

_ We love you, _

_ Mom and dad. _

_ Ps: enjoy the wine responsibly _

Timothée chuckles, takes the wine bottle out of the basket and takes a closer look at it. It's one of his father's favorites and the first one he ever had in his life, which brings a much deeper symbolism to the whole thing. He notices a package of pistachios, a few jams and coffee capsules, as well as some very french snacks, which reminds him of his summers in the country when he was a kid. He takes the can of Pringles and the wine with him to the kitchen, grabs a glass and pours some, taking in the scent before he sips on it.

He moves to the balcony to sit down, the Sun setting in the New York sky one of the most beautiful sights he could have from his apartment. He leans back on the chair, places his feet up on the table and sighs, allowing himself to unwind a little before he can even think of getting dressed for his night out. He reaches for his phone in his pocket, snaps a photo of his glass and Pringles, making sure he captures the sky behind it and uploads it to the family group chat, thanking his parents for the gift.

He then turns off the phone, sliding it as further away from him as possible, his eyes back to the sky and his mind slowly clearing up. Right now all he wants is to relax, find pleasure in moments like this one, where silence makes itself the best company he could have.

  
  


* * *

Armie parks the car in front of the brownstone mansion, his eyes wandering through the quiet street where he spent most of his life. He smiles at himself, hops off of the car and locks it behind him, rushing down the sidewalk and up the front steps, ringing the doorbell.

He toys with his keys while waiting, his eyes down to his feet until the front door opens, revealing Margareth, his father's wife. He chuckles as she reaches for his hand, pulling him inside the house with a beaming smile, her arms wrapped around him as soon as she has the chance.

"Armie, I didn't know you were stopping by."

"It wasn't planned, but dad called the office this morning to talk to me and I´ve been trying to reach out to him since then, but he won't answer my texts."

"Of course he won´t," she rolls her eyes, leading Armie further into the house. "Your father has been stuck in the office for hours, most of them with his accountant as they go through some numbers. I tried to understand what it was all about, but you know I´m not suited for this whole business thing, so I backed off and left him be."

"I think you did the right thing," Armie whispers while nudging her gently, a smile on his lips. "You know how cranky he can get when it comes to money."

"Yeah, I know way too well."

Armie chuckles, glancing around the house until his eyes land on a wall filled with framed photos. He frowns, walks over to it and stops right in front of the frame that has his mother´s photograph, her smile so contagious and her eyes full of life. It's hard to think about the fact it's been nearly twenty years since she passed away, leaving him and Anna crushed, with a sense of abandonment and so much anger. 

She had so much to live, so much to teach her kids and yet life took her away when they needed her the most, when Anna needed her the most. Thankfully, Margareth had turned out to be a great woman, who truly loved his father and cared about them as if they were her own children, but not even once tried to replace his mother in their heart.

"We changed the photos last week, your father said this was your favorite photo of hers and I thought it was fitting to use this one," she explains as Armie glances at her over his shoulder. "I hope you liked it."

"I loved it, Margareth," he plants a kiss on her cheek. "Thank you for this, it means a lot to me."

"It's nothing."

"Oh this is a lot, actually. Not many women would be okay having a photo of their husband's first wife on their wall."

"Maybe, but I understand the importance she had in Douglas´s life, just like I know how much you and Anna love her."

"Thank you," he reassures her, squeezing her shoulder. "I should go talk to the old man now."

"Are you staying for dinner? Beth is preparing that roast you love so much, it's almost as if she knew you would be stopping by."

"I always had a feeling Beth had magical powers."

"Oh, she must have."

Armie chuckles. "Well, I told Matthew I´d go out for a couple of drinks with him, but I can do that after dinner."

"Or you can call him and ask if he wants to join us.”

"That´s a good idea, actually, it's been a while since you guys saw him."

"Can you blame us? It seems that guy can´t stand in one place for more than a week."

Armie laughs, nodding his head.

"You're absolutely right."

"Call him, I´ll tell Beth to make sure there's enough food for everyone."

"I'll call him," he kisses her cheek, then turns on his heels, walking across the living room and down the long hallway that leads to his father's office, which has the door ajar. He stops, knocks on it and pushes it open, poking his head inside and waving over at his father once he glances up from the computer in front of him.

"Hey, I didn't know you were stopping by."

"You called the office this morning," he starts, pushing the door closed behind him. "Said you wanted to talk to me, but didn´t answer any of my texts, so I decided to stop by and see if everything's okay."

"Yeah, everything is okay," Douglas nods, pointing over to the chair across from his. "I just wanted to know how things were going at the office."

"Meaning, you wanted to know exactly how Timothée´s first day of work went by. Right?"

"Maybe."

"Timothée started out just fine, dad. Actually, I think I might have his first project picked out."

"And what would that be?"

"Something easy," he assures his dad once he notices his arched eyebrows. "It´s the visual identity and marketing strategy of a new bilingual school. Their focus is on english and french, which is why I thought it would be fun to have him attached to the project."

"Interesting."

"I haven't talked to him yet, I'll do it on Monday, but I thought it could be a good idea to start him off with something that's only his, you know? I think it might give him confidence and keep him from feeling overwhelmed by the group projects that might come his way."

Douglas smiles, closing the laptop before he leans against the desk, nodding his head. "I think you are absolutely right and I appreciate you giving him a chance to show his talent, I know you didn't really want to hire him and only did so because of me, but..."

"Dad, I know we hired the right person, I never doubted his talent or capability, I just wanted to be thorough and not make any rushed decisions, that's all."

"Yeah, I know you only want what's best for the company."

"Always."

They are interrupted by a knock on the door and glance over to see Anna poking her head inside, a small smile on her lips and sweat dripping down her forehead as she ties her hair up in a high bun.

"Hey dad, Ethan is asking to see you."

"Thank you," he turns to Armie while getting up, a stern finger pointing in his direction. "You stay exactly where you are, I´ll be right back."

"Not going anywhere, dad."

As Douglas exits the office, Anna walks over to Armie, leans against her father´s desk and crosses her arms, eyes down to her brother, who has his feet up on the desk.

"What you doing here?"

"Glad to see you too, sis. How's your day been?," he mocks as she rolls her eyes. "I just came to see dad, talk a little bit."

"You staying for dinner? Because I'm heading off to a bar with some people and you could..."

"By people you mean Timothée?," he wonders as she shrugs her shoulders. "Yeah, I´m staying for dinner and then going out for a couple of drinks with Matthew."

"I´m sure no one would mind if you joined us."

"What part of keeping things professional you don't seem to understand, Anna?," he asks after glancing around the office, as if to make sure no one is listening to them. "Once a month we join the staff at the bar and I plan on making that the only off office interaction I have with Timothée."

"Boring," she sings while pushing herself off of the desk, smiling as Armie rolls his eyes. She opens her mouth, ready to say something else, but smacks her lips back together when her father makes it through the door. "Anyway, go back to being boring, brother, I have to get ready for my night out."

Armie shakes his head and Anna plants a kiss on his cheek, laughing as he recoils, desperate not to get any of her sweat on him. He groans, cleaning his face as his father sits down laughing.

"No matter how old you are, whenever you two are in the same room together, you act as if you´re still teenagers."

Armie shrugs, a little cheeky smile on his lips. "So, Margareth said you were here for hours with Jeffrey. Is everything okay?"

"Feet," he says, pushing Armie´s feet away from the desk, a stern look on his face when he rolls his eyes. "No, it wasn't anything serious, I just wanted to run through some numbers and make sure everything is alright."

"So I don't have anything to worry about?"

"You know me, Armie, I would tell you if there was anything you needed to know."

"I know."

  
  
  
  


Timothée smiles and thanks the bartender once he slides the small tray in his direction. He glances down at it, six shots of Tequila, salt and lemon all displayed there, much to his delight. He takes the tray in his hand and turns on his heels, biting his lip as he crosses the bar, trying his very best not to bump into anyone so he won't spill the drinks on the floor or himself. 

Once he reaches the table, he slowly sets the tray down, sliding to the chair across from Chloe afterwards, his hand immediately reaching for one of the shots. They toast, then take their shots, sucking on the lemon and taking the salt into their mouths swiftly afterwards. Timothée groans, shaking his head at the burning sensation in the back of his throat, which can be quite intense, but he loves anyway.

"Wow, that´s a strong one," Chloe chuckles, running her fingers through her orange hair. "So, how was work? Still good?"

"Yeah, still good," he assures her with a smile. "I mean, it was my second day there and I don't really have much to do since I don't have any projects to work on, but it does give me time to get to know everyone better, get acquainted with the place and also allows me to get some schoolwork done."

"Oh, so that's what you´re doing there for five whole hours?"

He shrugs, a little cheeky grin spreading across his face. "Well, what can I do? I am working in a place that has some of the best technology in the country, I might as well use it in my favor."

"You´re a wise one, Chalamet," she winks, her manicured nails tapping on the wooden table. "What about Armie?"

"What about Armie?"

"I don´t know, anything juicy? Did you guys see each other at all?"

"Briefly when he arrived, but he spent most of the afternoon stuck inside the office with a friend of his and when the man finally left, he had a bunch of work to deal with."

"Fully aware of his schedule, huh?"

"Megan was the one who told me he had a lot to work on," Timothée replies, rolling his eyes. "Anyway, do you know where..."

Timothée trails off as he spots Anna by the door, her blonde hair slightly curled, her lips painted with a red and bold lipstick. He raises from his seat, waves his hand around until she finally sees him and mentions for her to come over, chuckling as he notices how easily she catches men's attention. Apparently charm is a family superpower.

"Hey, I'm sorry I'm late," she says when she finally reaches him, her hands on his. "I couldn't find what to wear and then I lost track of time talking to my brother, but I'm here now and I'm ready to party."

Timothée chuckles. "It's okay, you haven't really missed much, the night has just begun."

"Great," she smiles wide, glancing around the bar. "Wow, this place is crowded."

"College bars tend to always be crowded, but Fridays are usually a new level of crazy."

"Well, I like crazy."

"Then you're definitely gonna enjoy the night," Timothée smiles, then turns towards Chloe. "This is my friend, Chloe."

"Hey there," Chloe smiles, getting up to give Anna a quick hug. "Nice to meet you."

"Nice to meet you too, I´m Anna Hammer."

Chloe frowns, her eyes moving from Anna to Timothée and then Anna once again. "Hammer as in..."

"As in his boss's sister."

"Oh," Chloe nods, tyring her very best to keep a smile on her face, even if all she wants to do at the moment is grab Timothée by the collar and ask him what the fuck does he think he is doing. "That's cool."

Timothée clears his throat, shooting Chloe a look before pulling on a chair for Anna, who thanks him and seats down. He sighs, takes a seat himself and grabs two shots, sliding one over to Anna and keeping one to himself. He glances back at Chloe, who still got a weird look on her face and kicks her under the table, nodding towards the drinks. He waits until Chloe grabs one so they can toast, the three of them drinking it quickly. 

"So, how´s work going? I hope my brother hasn't been too harsh on you."

"No, he's not," Timothée quickly answers. "I mean, we haven't had much time to talk or anything, but when we did talk, he was very nice and supportive."

"Yeah, I give him a hard time, but he's actually a wonderful man. When my dad decided to step back from the CEO position and said he wanted Armie to take over, he didn't hesitate for a bit, even if he was pretty damn happy working on the artistic part of things. Then again, that's what he actually studied for, so I guess things took the course they oughta take."

"As far as I can tell, judging by what I've read of him online, your brother is quite the businessman," Chloe says and Timothée wants to stuff his head on the floor from embarrassment. "Everyone only has nice things to say about him."

"What can I say, my dad did a really good job with us."

Timothée chuckles, but frowns the moment he spots Jackson walking towards them, his tired expression worrying him a little bit.

"Dude, are you alright?," he asks as soon as Jackson reaches their table and slides down to the chair beside him. "You look like hell."

"Came straight from practice. I´m completely spent and in need to have a couple of...," Jackson trails off as his eyes find Anna, who looks back at him with a smile on her red lips. "Hi."

"Hi, I´m Anna."

"Jackson," he practically whispers, completely ignoring his friends. "Nice to meet you."

Timothée glances from Jackson to Anna, cocking an eyebrow at the look in their faces. He turns to Chloe, who´s staring at them just as amused as he is and chuckles, gesturing over to the bar as she nods. He gets up, waits for his friend and links arms with her as they cross the room, dodging a couple of drunk college kids that pass them by.

"Another round of shots, please," Timothée asks, smiling over at the bartender who nods his head. He turns around, leaning his back against the counter and glances back at their table, where Jackson has moved chairs to make sure he is closer to Anna. "I did not see that coming."

"Guess that's the theme of the night then," Chloe replies, earning a confused glance from Timothée. "When you said you had invited someone over for drinks, I didn't expect it to be Armie´s sister."

"You didn't like her?"

"No," she shakes her head, letting out a sigh. "I mean, yes I liked her, she seems like a great girl. I simply didn't expect you to be hanging out with her considering the whole thing with her brother, you know?"

"Truth be told, when she told me we should get together for a couple of drinks, I didn't think she would be going through with the idea," he explains, reaching for a couple of peanuts he sees on the counter. "But just like you said, she seems like a great girl and she's been very nice to me, I thought it wouldn't be that bad."

"You think her brother knows about this?"

"I have no idea. Like I said, I saw him very briefly today and it's not like I was going to knock on his office door and ask his permission to hang out with his sister. But judging by the fact she seems to know what happened between us, I'd say he's aware she's here with me."

"Oh, to be a fly on the wall and know exactly what that guy is thinking."

Timothée chuckles. "I'm not entirely sure I´d like to know."

"Yeah, right."

"What? I mean it."

"Timothée, c´mon."

"Look, it could be great knowing what he thinks about this whole situation, but it could also be disastrous, so I´ll let things stay the way they are and just go along with the flow. That's what you told me to do, remember?"

"Yeah yeah," she rolls her eyes and then turns around, blowing a kiss in the bartender´s direction as he places their shots down on the counter. She takes one in her hand, clinks it against Timothée´s and drinks it, both of them letting out loud sighs afterwards.

"C´mon, let's get those drinks back to the table," she says as Timothée nods. "I need to see if Jackson scores with the million dollar girl."

Timothée laughs, shaking his head as he follows Chloe down the bar. "I'm pretty sure he already did."

* * *

  
  


"Sorry I can´t give you fancy cocktails," Armie says while placing the glass of whisky down on the wooden table at the balcony, the moon cascading a beautiful and bright light on them. "However, I can give you the best view in the city."

"Let me guess, you use that pickup line with every single girl you bring here, right?"

"Not really," he chuckles, sitting down on the empty chair and setting his feet up on the table. "By the time I have anyone here, man or woman, I have already used all the pickup lines I had to, so the view is really just a plus."

"You´ve always been a player."

"Excuse me?"

"Are you gonna deny it? You went out with every possible girl and guy during high school, in college the only thing higher than your dating score were your grades and even though we had our fun, you were constantly on the lookout for someone new and interesting."

"That might have changed," Armie says in between sips of his whisky, his blue eyes wandering around the city, which seems incredibly vibrant, even more than usual. "I don´t know if it's work, or the fact I'm getting older and starting to become a little more restrained, but I haven't been going out as much and definitely haven't had many hookups."

"And the one you did have, just happened to be with a college guy that was trying out a spot in your company."

"And maybe that's a sign I should just stop hooking up altogether."

"Don´t be so dramatic, Armand, you can still go out and have your fun. Just maybe, try asking a few trivial questions before you get anyone in bed...or in a public bathroom."

"You and Anna are having so much fun with this whole thing, aren't you? I mean, Anna even started to bug me about how I´m actually in love with the guy and it's just..."

"And you're not?"

"What? In love with Timothée?," he asks between chuckles as Matthew nods his head. "Matt, I barely know him."

"I don´t think that's required to be in love with someone, Armie. Actually, I think one of the beauties of love is that you might find yourself loving someone you barely know, or that you don't have much in common, someone who challenges you."

"And what do you know about love?"

"Not much, but enough to know is not exact science, it's not black and white. Things happen, people find themselves feeling things they do not understand and it seems they enjoy anyway, which is the part that puzzles me, to be honest."

"Of all people, you were the least one I expect a relationship lesson from."

"Less relationship lessons, more love ideals."

"Still, a shock coming from you," Armie teases, chuckling as Matthew rolls his eyes. "Okay, we´ve been discussing the whole issue with Timothée for days now, how about we talk more about you and your time in Egypt."

"There's not much to talk about, actually."

"You were there for about a month, I can´t believe you have nothing to talk about."

"I visited the pyramids, I made colleagues, took amazing pictures and met some incredible people, some which I slept with, some which I only talked and had a laugh with. That's about it."

Armie frowns, crossing his arms as he stares at Matthew in silence, trying to understand what is going on through his head.

"I somehow don't believe you, but I'll drop the subject anyway."

"Good, after all I came here to drink, not talk."

"Good point, good point."

* * *

  
  
  


Timothée has his arms crossed, his back leaned against the chair as he laughs along with Chloe, watching as Jackson and Anna take the dancefloor; she moves gracefully from one side to the other, swaying her hips and with a wide smile on her red lips while Jackson, as it has been known by them for years now, can barely keep the rhythm. The look in his face doesn't help either, because anyone can see the man is not the type who normally dances, but since he's pretty much starstruck with Anna from the second he laid eyes on her, it's no surprise to neither one of them that he is at least trying.

"Fifty dollars that these two leave together tonight," Chloe whispers in Timothée´s ears.

"I'm not doing that with you."

"Why not?"

"Because it's clear that I´m gonna lose," he chuckles, nudging her gently. "I mean, look at the way he's looking at her, for God's sake. I´ve never seen him with such a goofy smile before in my life, and I know this guy since he was twelve."

Chloe smirks, takes a sip of her drink and leans closer to Timothée. "They do make a cute couple, right? I don´t know what it is, but they fit together quite perfectly."

"They do, which is slightly troubling for me," he admits, biting his lip as Chloe glances at him confused. "Can you imagine if these two become a thing? My best friend is dating my boss's sister?"

"Not only your boss, but a boss you´ve slept with."

"Exactly," he frowns. "Maybe you were right, maybe inviting her for drinks wasn´t such a good idea."

"Oh stop," she sets her drink down, turns on the chair and faces Timothée, who turns to look at her. "She´s a really nice girl and it would be nice to have another woman in this group, because sometimes you two are just too much for me to handle."

"Right."

"Also, she probably already knows about you and Armie, but she hasn't really made any jokes or mentioned the situation in any way. So, while her and Jack might not even make it past tonight, if they do, I doubt she would be a problem or make the situation even more complicated than it already is."

"I guess you´re right," he shrugs, finger slowly tracing the brink of his glass. "I might have allowed myself to get a bit too neurotic."

"Sweetie, you´ve always been the neurotic, overthinking type."

"Remember when I said I was paying for your drinks tonight? Forget about it, Ms. Sunshine."

"Oh c´mon, you know I don't mean it in a bad way."

"How is that even possible?"

"You're neurotic in a cute way."

"Shut up before you make things even worse, okay?"

"Are you still paying for my drinks?"

"I´ll pay for everyone's drinks," a voice echoes before Timothée can say anything and they quickly turn ahead, seeing Anna standing there, sweaty and flushed, but with her makeup still impeccable. "You guys don´t worry, I´ll pay for everything."

"What? No, you don´t..."

"I want to," she insists, taking her purse from the table. "But we're kind of leaving already, so whatever you buy after this, you´ll have to pay yourselves."

"You´re leaving already?," Timothée asks, eyes moving from her to Jackson.

"I hope you guys don´t mind," he says, a little embarrassed smile on the corner of his lips.

"Not at all," Chloe quickly replies, gesturing with her hands for them to go. "You guys go have fun."

"Thanks for having me," Anna smiles. "I really loved spending this night with you guys."

"You're welcomed to join us whenever you want."

"Thanks, Tim," she smiles, taking his hand in hers and giving it a quick squeeze. "I'll see guys later."

"See you."

"See you tomorrow," Jackson whispers, winking at them before he follows Anna around the bar, his hand resting on the small of her back.

"That would've been the easiest fifty bucks of my life," Chloe muses, leaning her head on Timothée´s shoulder, who chuckles.

"I´m sorry, my friend, maybe next time?"

"We can bet how long it will last?"

"That's kind of cruel," he says between chuckles. "But I'm not completely opposed to it."

* * *

  
  
  


It's nearly one in the morning when Armie throws the bottle of whisky on the garbage can by the patio, his eyes distant as he lies on one of the lounge chairs, the cold breeze of the night hitting him and causing goosebumps to form all over his skin. He sighs, finishes his drink and glances up at Matthew, who by now is standing by the wooden table, collecting his belongings and pocketing them all.

Their eyes meet for a brief second and Armie pushes himself up, leading him across the penthouse and towards the elevator. He presses the button, hears the doors open and leans against the wall, arms crossed as he stares at Matthew, who puts on his jacket, a little smile on his lips.

"You sure you don't want to spend the night? There's still quite a few drinks here and I do have a spare bedroom, you know?"

"Nah, I have some things to do tomorrow in the morning and I know you also have a pile of work to deal with," he says, gesturing towards the living room´s coffee table, where at least a dozen different files are scattered. "Maybe we can meet up later on and do something with Anna? That´s if she´s in any condition to go out after a night out with her new friends, of course."

"I'm sure she´ll make some time for you," Armie pats his shoulder, watches as his friend enters the elevator and smiles. "It was nice having you around for the night, Matt. Thank you for the little pep talk too."

"What pep talk are you even...," he trails off, cocking an eyebrow as Armie chuckles. "Oh, you´re talking about  _ that _ ?"

"Yeah. I´m not saying what you say fully applies to my situation, but it sure helped me realize I might need to see things from a different perspective."

"Glad I could help then," he winks, a little cheeky grin on his face as the doors start to close in between them. "Good night, Hammer."

"Good night, Matt."

The doors close, Armie turns on his heels and makes his way towards the kitchen, where he pours himself a tall glass of water, which he drinks swiftly. He grabs his phone by the patio´s table, scrolls through the messages and notifications while on his way to the bedroom and then throws himself on the bed, a loud sigh escaping him.

He reaches for his copy of The Posthumous Memories of Bras Cubas by his bedside table and flips through a couple of the pages until he finds the one where he left off, his eyes scanning the pages as he allows his body to relax. He glances at the large slide glass door to his left, notices the clouds are starting to take over the night sky and smiles before he focuses back on his reading, flying through the pages as if this was his very first time reading. 


	9. Water Is Sweet But Blood Is Thicker

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sibling love

Clouds fill up the sky, the first few raindrops already falling and giving the city a gloomy tone, which incites people to stay in bed for long hours, watch movies under thick blankets with mugs of hot chocolate in their hands. Much to his disappointment, Armie is fully aware he can´t partake in any of those activities, since he has a pile of work waiting for him in the living room. 

He sighs, eyes wandering to the glass doors that lead to the patio, the rain getting stronger, the wind blowing and whistling. He sits up in bed, runs his fingers through his hair and scratches his neck, a yawn escaping him as he forces himself up. He drags his naked body across the bedroom, opens a bit of the slide door and takes in the fresh air, his eyes wandering through the sky.

He stands there for a few minutes, simply contemplating the quiet Saturday morning, wishing he could do this for the rest of the day. He closes the door once again, turns on his heels and heads to the bathroom, taking a quick shower before putting on some clean and comfortable clothes. Lazily, he wanders around the penthouse, placing some books back in place, folding the blanket that was thrown on the couch and then moves to the kitchen, preparing himself breakfast.

He makes a ham sandwich, fills a glass with orange juice and heads to the living room, sitting cross legged on the ground while he leans his elbows against the coffee table, where his laptop and a few files are already set. He takes a few bites off of the sandwich, eyes down to his phone, which he scrolls through, frowning at some of the news he sees. He shakes his head in annoyance, often wondering how fucked up the world could really be, tosses the phone to the couch and opens his computer, focusing his attention on the contracts and proposals he has to work on.

Minutes go by until Armie stops, finishing up his juice and stretching out his arms, a loud and exasperated sigh escaping him. He checks the clock, groans as he realizes it´s not even ten and focuses back on the work he has, eyes scanning a brand new contract on his computer. As the elevator´s doors open, he raises his gaze to meet Anna, frowning as he notices her sparkly dress and high heels.

"Nice outfit for a rainy Saturday morning. Really goes well with the smudged make-up."

"Ha ha, you´re so funny," she rolls her eyes, dragging herself to the kitchen, where she opens every single cupboard, the fridge and even the oven, trying to find herself something to eat. She eventually settles down for cereal and grabs one of the boxes from the top shelf at the pantry, pours some into a bowl and reaches for some milk to add up on the fridge. "Are you working? It´s fucking Saturday, why don´t you just take a break, fod God´s sake?"

"Trust me, there´s nothing I want more than to have a free Saturday."

"Then why don't you have it?," she asks while throwing herself down on one of the armchairs, her legs swinging back and forth.

"Because sadly, things don't work out that way."

"You´re the boss, Armz."

"Yeah, and with that comes the excess of work," he explains, leaning his arms back on the couch. "You know damn well I like to have my fun, but I can´t simply pretend there isn't work to do."

"And that's exactly why I want nothing to do with this company."

"Right," Armie nods, although it's pretty easy to see the condescending smile that spreads across his lips. "Anyway, are you just coming back from your night out with Timothée? Was it that good?"

"More like awesome," she says with a smile. "I might have left the bar a little earlier than expected though."

"What is that supposed to mean?"

"That Timothée has some quite interesting friends," she winks, biting her lip to suppress a smile. "One in particular has really made an impression on me, if you know what I mean."

"You hooked up with one of his friends?"

"Would you rather me hooking up with him?," Armie shoots her a look and Anna chuckles, stuffing her mouth with more cereal. "His name is Jackson, he´s a basketball player and is getting a Maths degree next year."

"Well, he's got a lot more qualification than most of the guys you usually go out with....combined," she throws a cushion towards him and Armie dodges it, chuckling as she shoots him a glare. "C´mon, that was far from a lie."

"Fuck off."

He shrugs, turning his attention back to his computer. He scrolls through a couple of pages of contracts, bites his lip as he makes a few notes down on his notepad and curses when he feels a cushion hit him square in the face.

"What the fuck is wrong with you?"

"You´re not even one little bit curious about how the night went out?"

He shrugs, leaning back on the couch so he can look her in the eye. "You went out with some friends, had a few drinks and then had sex. It seems to me you had quite a fun night and I´m happy for you."

"Seriously? You´re not even one bit curious to know how it was to be with Timothée there? How he behaved around me or just in general?"

"I´ve been with Timothée in a bar," he says while pushing himself up and picking up his plate and glass. "I doubt anything you tell me will be surprising, still I think I´ve told you before that I want to make sure we keep things as professional as possible. And since I don't normally go around asking how my employees behave whenever they are out of the company, I´m not gonna be doing that with Timothée."

As Anna sighs, Armie smirks, taking the now empty bowl from her hands and taking it with him to the kitchen. He places it all down on the sink, turns on the tap and lets the water run while he reaches for the soap and sponge. He looks over his shoulder as he hears her footsteps, the clicking of her heels echoing through the entire penthouse.

She hops up on one of the stools, nails tapping on the granite counter, her big blue eyes following his every move, until he can no longer control himself and turns around, eyes wide as he stares back at her.

"What?"

"Nothing."

"For fuck´s sake, Anna, if you have something to say, please, just say it."

"For how long do you think you´re gonna be able to keep this up?"

"What are you talking about?"

"Less than a week ago, I sat on that balcony and heard you talk about this guy and everything that happened, back then I was just glad I had something new to tease you about, but as the week progressed, it's pretty damn obvious things are not as black and white."

"Why does everyone think I´m in love with the guy?," he mumbles rubbing his temples as Anna looks at him, a frown forming on her face. "Matthew said something, which made me think about this whole thing in a different angle."

"So you admit there´s more than just sexual attraction?"

"Maybe," is all he says, a loud sigh escaping him afterwards. "Look, I´m not saying I'm in love with him or anything like it, but there's something about him that intrigues me, that pulls me to him. And maybe if things had happened differently, I wouldn't be feeling so weird and confused, but things happened and now I´m just all over the place."

"What do you mean by things happening differently? You regret hiring him?"

"No, he was the best for the job we had in hand," he shrugs. "But maybe I should have had the guts to go and talk to him right after the interview."

"You can still do that, brother."

"He´s my employee now, Anna, that makes things so much more complicated."

"It shouldn't have to be."

"Apparently life doesn't think that way," he chuckles, before turning on his heels and focusing his attention back on the dishes. "So, tell me more about this Jackson guy."

"Oh, I have a feeling you'd like him."

* * *

  
  
  


The sliding door to the balcony is open, the smell of coffee starting to take over the apartment as Timothée moves around the tiny kitchen, grabbing a mug and a plate, which he sets down on the counter. He sits on one of the stools, prepares himself a sandwich, eating half of it before the coffee is even done. Once the coffee machine turns off, he pours himself a mug, taking a few sips of it as he scrolls through his phone, noticing a couple of random emails and messages from Anna and Megan. 

He frowns, for a moment slightly worried of what he might find in Anna´s message. Maybe she told Armie about their night out and he didn't like it, asked her to cut any sort of ties she could possibly have with him. Then again, Armie didn't seem like the type of guy who would prevent his sister, or anyone else, from doing anything they might want. He takes a breath, clicks on the message and watches as the conversation page fills up the screen, a sigh of relief escaping him the moment he reads it.

**_< anna hammer>_ ** _ i had a really great time yesterday _

_ thank you so much for accepting me in your little group _

_ tell chloe i look 4ward to seeing her again _

Timothée bites his lip, fingers hovering over the keyboard as he tries to think of something to reply to her, maybe something that could lead to her talking about Armie, or at least something that gave him a hint of what he thought of this whole situation. In the end, he resorts to something simple and safe.

**_< timothee>_ ** _ ur welcome _

_ we loved having u around _

_ and hope u will join us more often _

**_< anna hammer>_ ** _ i sure will ;) _

Timothée smirks, her words making it very clear her night out with Jackson was exactly as she expected. He hears a knock on the door and raises his gaze, taking another bite of his sandwich before rushing across the living room and to the door, which he quickly opens.

"If it isn´t the future Mr. Hammer," Timothée teases as Jackson rolls his eyes, walking past him with Chloe following close behind. "I was just talking to your girlfriend, you know?"

"What?"

"She texted me, thanking me for the night out and saying she looks forward to seeing us and Chloe again," he says, a little knowing smirk plastered on his face as Jackson leans against the counter, his cheeks slightly flushed. "She seemed pretty damn happy, you know? I can tell the night was good."

"Please, stop."

Hopping onto the stool, Chloe laughs, pouring herself some coffee and taking a bite out of Timothée´s sandwich. "I tried to get him to say something about the night, but he won´t say a fucking word."

"Because it doesn't concern you guys in any way."

"Excuse me? You might end up dating my boss´s sister, Jackson, I think that might concern me a little bit."

"Boss which he had sex with," Chloe chimes in. "Meaning the bond between all of you is even deeper than you can imagine."

Jackson frowns, tilting his head to the side as Chloe shrugs her shoulders, a little cheeky grin on her face. "Okay, if you guys are so desperate to know, we spend a lot of time just sitting at my living room, having a couple of drinks, laughing and talking."

"Then?," Timothée smirks, leaning his chin against his hand, his elbow pressed against the counter. "C´mon dude, go on."

"Then we had sex and it was great, awesome actually. I got her number, she got mine and we might be going out later tonight."

"Already?," Chloe says excitedly, clapping her hands together. "Dude, you got game, huh?"

"She´s a really nice woman, intelligent and funny too."

"I´m happy for you, man," Timothée smiles, leaning in to squeeze Jackson´s shoulder. "It was about time you found yourself someone nice to be with and Anna does look like an amazing woman."

"She really likes you."

"You took her to your house and you talked about Timothé," Chloe shakes her head. "Forget what I said about game."

"I´m the one thing that connects them, of course I would be mentioned," he chuckles, cocking his eyebrows as he turns back to Jackson. "What did you talk about exactly?"

"Just that you´re a cool guy, very talented and that her whole family is very happy to have you working for their company. Her dad in particular thinks they can really benefit from having you on the team, which I agreed, of course. But if you´re wondering if she said anything regarding her brother, she didn´t."

"That's not why I asked."

"Right," Jackson and Chloe say in unison, earning a glare from Timothée.

"It's okay to admit you might be curious to have a glimpse of what he is thinking about all of this, Tim," Jackson assures him. "And unless you actually talk to him, it's pretty clear Anna is the closest you´ll get to that."

"That makes it sound like I'm using her."

"And we all know you´re not," Chloe quickly says. "But anyone in your position would wonder and if she happens to spill something here and there, who are you to complain, right?"

Timothée smirks, shrugging his shoulders.

"I guess you're right."

* * *

  
  
  


There's music playing, the sound echoing through the penthouse, which now has the slide door open, the cool breeze of the day coming in. The rain has stopped, but the sky is still heavily clouded and the temperature is set to drop even more in the upcoming days. Sitting on one of the stolls by the counter, Anna bobs her head to the music, a few strands of hair coming loose from the bun she had made. 

Meanwhile, Armie is standing on the opposite side of the counter, flipping burgers on the grill. He closes his eyes, inhaling deeply and allowing the smell to fill up his nostrils, a large smile spreading across his lips. He adds a slice of cheese on top of each hamburger, covers them with a lid and turns on his heels, reaching for the buns on the top shelf of the cupboard.

He sets it down, takes two and tosses it on Anna´s direction, the look of despair in her face so amusing, he can´t help but laugh. He takes the buns back, chuckling as she rolls her eyes and cuts them in half, placing them on the grill too. He watches them for a few seconds, grabs a spatula and slides them to a plate, which he then hands off to Anna.

As she starts adding mayo and mustard on them, Armie reaches for the chips on the oven, biting his lip as he stares at them, their golden tone so appetizing, he could immediately eat the whole thing himself. He sets it up on the counter, takes the plate back from Anna and turns off the grill, placing each hamburger in one of them.

"You want beers or you´re gonna be a freak and have a burger with whisky or Scotch?," Anna asks, amused by her own mocking.

"Just grab the beers, will ya?"

"Fine," she rolls her eyes, takes two beers from the fridge and rushes over to the counter, hopping on the stoll and sliding one of the bottles towards Armie. "You're done with work for today?"

"Not even close," he says before taking a large bite of the burger, stuffing his mouth with chips afterwards. "I still have a pile of papers to go through, contracts to check on and the plant of our new building to evaluate."

"I still don't get why you and dad need another building, the one we have is pretty damn good, isn't it?"

"Yes, it is pretty damn good, but we can´t use what we have for the new project."

"Can´t you just expand it? A whole new building sounds way too much."

"Why don't you focus on your fashion line and let me handle the family business, huh?"

"That's what I´ve been doing my whole life," she winks, takes a bite of the burger and smiles, cleaning the corner of her lips. "And since you mentioned my fashion line, I think I´m coming close to a concept, I might be ready to start working on it soon enough."

"Are you serious?"

"Yep."

"Anna, that's awesome. I can´t wait to see it all come to life, I know how much you´ve been working on this."

She nods, a proud smile taking her over. "I really can´t believe I might actually get this done, you know? I´ve been dreaming about this since I was fifteen and I finally see it coming true, I couldn´t be happier."

"I´m proud of you, sis."

"Thank you, that means a lot coming from you."

"I´ve always been proud of you," he smiles, reaching out to take her hand in his. "Even though you can be spoiled, annoying and incredibly childish when you want."

"Jesus, is this how you compliment me?"

He shrugs, chuckles as she reaches out to slap his arm, but then sighs. "Mom would be proud of you too, you know that, right?"

"I like to think so."

"She would, trust me."

Anna nods, taking a few gulps of her beer as she tries to hold back the tears that threaten to fall. "Anyway, I was thinking that you can get someone from your team to work on the identity of my brand?"

"Are you hiring Hammer Graphic Design & Marketing?," he asks, a cheeky grin on his face as Anna rolls her eyes. "Is that what I am hearing? You´re finally gonna make use of the family business?"

"Just say yes or not, asshole."

"Of course I´m gonna get someone to work on your brand, you don´t have to worry about that. We´re gonna get someone who understands fashion, who has a personality close to yours and make sure something great comes along."

"I knew I could count on you, brother."

"Always," he kisses her hand, then hops off of the stool to grab yet another beer at the fridge. "Oh, Matthew wants to know if you want to do something later today."

"I thought you had piles of work to go through?"

"I'll work in the afternoon."

She shrugs. "Then sign me up. Knowing Matthew, he can be gone tomorrow and we might not see him for months, so better enjoy his company while he is here."

* * *

  
  
  


Night starts falling, the heavy clouds still filling up the sky and promising even more rain for the next couple of hours. In the shower, Timothée has his eyes closed, the water cascading down his naked body as he goes through the crazy week he had. His emotions were all over the place, his thoughts a complete mess and with every little thing that happened, he found himself more and more astonished at how crazy life could really be.

But as the first day of the weekend comes to an end, he finds himself a lot more relaxed than he previously was. He's got the job he always wanted, he's made new friends and his old ones are there whenever he needs someone to talk to. And even if the simple fact that Armie is now his boss is still quite a bit daunting, Timothée is slightly more confident that he can make it through this. 

If he's lucky enough, in a matter of a few days whatever he feels when Armie is around him will wear off, he'll become nothing more than his boss and he won't have to worry about awkward meetings in the hallways or cafeteria. If he's lucky enough, soon there will be some other guy who'll walk into his life and sweep him off of his feet. And then, then everything will be just fine and he will finally be able to leave that night in the past.

With a sigh, Timothée turns off the shower, reaches for a towel and dries himself off, wrapping it around his waist as he makes his way to the bedroom. He grabs some clean underwear, puts it on and then reaches for the worn out shirt he uses as pajamas, slipping it on on his way to the kitchen. He looks through the cabinets, which are all full, but finds himself not even one bit motivated to do anything.

Going for the quickest thing he can find, Timothée grabs a bag of popcorn and puts on the microwave. While it pops, he turns to the fridge, eyes wandering through every shelf in search of something for him to drink. He eventually finds one last beer bottle, takes it and sips of it while he waits for the popcorn to finish. He looks around the apartment, the sound of the rain coming in and invading the entire place. It sounds peaceful and the cool weather is perfect for a good and long night of sleep, which is exactly what he plans on doing. After the week he had, he deserves some rest.

He takes the bag of popcorn out of the microwave, dumps it all into a bowl and takes it with him to the bedroom. He throws himself in bed, tossing a few popcorn into his mouth as he turns on the laptop and logs into Netflix. The search for something worth watching seems endless, movies and more movies crossing the screen, the catalogue nearly over when he finally finds one thing that seems good enough.

Just as the Netflix logo fills up the screen though, his phone goes off and he groans, reaching out for it on the bedside table. Without paying much attention, Timothée hits answer, a smile spreading across his lips as he hears his sister's voice on the other side of the line.

"Hey, Timmy!"

"Hello, stranger."

"Don't be so dramatic, it's been a week since we talked last," she chuckles. "Besides you getting that job you wanted, what else could have happened?"

"If you picked up my calls or replied to my texts, you'd know that a lot has happened."

There's a brief moment of silence and knowing his sister, Timothée can tell she's bitten the bait and her curiosity has taken the best of her.

"Okay, I'm listening."

"Where do I even start." he scoffs, trying to get everything in order in his head before he can explain things to his sister. "Well, it all began when I decided to hook up with this insanely hot guy at a bar last Sunday..."

As he tells the story, leaving no details behind, Timothée can hear the low gasps that escape Pauline and at a certain point he can almost see the look on her face. Suddenly he vehemently wishes his sister wasn't on the other side of the ocean, but that she was sitting right across from him on the bed, cutting him off mid sentences, laughing loudly every time he stutters through a word or slapping him whenever he makes a silly face. He misses her and telling the events of the past week only enhances that.

"....and that's about it."

"That's about it?," Pauline repeats in between chuckles. "Timothée what you just told me sounds like the plot to a rom-com starring Dakota Johnson or Emilia Clarke."

"Who's playing me?," he asks, cocking an eyebrow. "And please, I want some Oscar winning actors on the list."

"Fuck off," she says and he laughs, leaning back on the headboard, tossing more popcorn into his mouth. "Okay, so you've slept with your boss, he's hot as fuck and you're clearly interested in him, in one way or another. How exactly do you plan on dealing with the fact you have to see him every single day? I know you well enough to know you're terrible at hiding your emotions."

"I'm not that terrible," he protests as Pauline scoffs. "I'm not!"

"You are, just accept it."

"Whatever," he groans. "But answering your question, I'm not really planning on doing anything in particular, I'm just going with the flow and seeing where it gets me. He's very professional, and while everyone says he's a fun boss to be around, he also makes sure there are some boundaries."

"So you don't think there will be much of a problem?"

"I did in the beginning, but after the few interactions we had and what I heard about him, I think we can manage it. Even if my knees do go weak whenever I see him."

"I knew it," Pauline sighs, loudly enough for Timothée to hear over the phone. "Brother, you need to be careful. As great as this guy might be, I don't want you to jeopardize your job, which is something you've been dreaming about for years now."

Timothée bites his lip, closes his eyes for a few seconds and then nods. "I know the situation is slightly tricky, but I'm confident that I can make it through it. We're two grown men, if we can't push back a random one night stand, then we're not as mature as we believe to be."

"Except you were hoping to be more than just a one night stand, right? And those feelings you got bottled up might become too much eventually, so just be careful."

"I will, don't worry."

"And keep me updated on whatever happens," she adds. "I might be slightly worried, but I'm also very curious to know how things unravel from now on."

"Of course you are," he chuckles.

"Also, I'll be needing some photos from the guy. I need a better visual than blue eyes, dark blond hair and six feet tall."

"Probably around six foot five," Timothée corrects her. "But if you really need some visuals, Google can provide you that."

"Armie Hammer, right?"

"Yep."

"I know how I'm spending the next few hours," she laughs and Timothée can't help but laugh too, glad that he now has his sister to share this with.

* * *

  
  
  


The rain didn't seem to stop people from going out, crowding the bars all around the city, live music, drinks and food going around non-stop. In one of those bars, sitting in a table close to the small stage, are Armie, Matthew and Anna, glasses of shots and a bowl of chicken wings on the table. Armie slams the glass down on the table, nose scrunched as the liquid burns down his throat. He shakes his head, licks his lips and chuckles as he glances back at Matthew, who is doing the exact same face. 

"I can´t believe you're leaving already," Anna says, playing with her glass as she leans back on the chair, her blonde hair falling down her shoulders in soft waves. "You just got here, dude, would it kill you to just stay for a little longer?"

"It's stronger than me, little one," he replies, using the nickname he picked up for her when she was just ten years old and used to run after him and Armie, trying to infiltrate herself in between them. "Even before I left Egypt, I was already making plans for this new trip and the opportunity to do some humanitarian work just came around, so I can´t miss it."

"It´s really nice you´re going to do some good this time, instead of just fucking around."

"Excuse me?," Matthew scoffs, shaking his head as Armie shrugs, a smirk plastered on his face. "There was a lot of fucking around, but I wasn´t doing just that, okay?"

"Right."

"Says the guy who goes around sleeping with random boys at college bars," he says, clearing his throat as Armie sighs, rolling his eyes. "What?"

"Can we go one night without talking about Timothée, for fuck´s sake? You two keep saying I´m in love with him, but you´re the ones who are clearly obsessed with the guy."

"You´re the one who´s giving him a project after he's been in the company for two days."

"What?," Anna asks alarmed, her eyes moving to Armie as she sets her glass down. "You're giving him a whole project already?"

"You two do realize that's why we hired him, right? His sole job in the company is to come up with visual identity and marketing ideas for various companies and brands, so yeah, I´m giving him his first project."

Anna smirks, crossing her arms. "I wonder how it feels to be the boss's favorite."

"I´m sure Timothée will soon find out his status comes with a lot of perks."

"You two are the worse," Armie rolls his eyes, burying his face in his hands.

"Oh, c´mon, we´re just fucking around."

"At my expense," Armie glances back up at Matthew, shooting him a condescending smile. 

"You have to admit, brother, your life has been a lot more interesting the last week than ours have been the last few months. What else would we be talking about?"

"You and your new boyfriend? Or you think I didn't notice you checking your phone every five minutes and the silly smile in your lips every time you get a new text?"

"Wait, what? You got a boyfriend? Why am I just hearing about that now?"

"She's dating Timothée´s best friend."

"Are you serious?"

"His name is Jackson and no, we´re not dating, we just met."

"That's what she says, but she slept at his place last night and they won't stop texting one another the whole day."

"How on earth do you know he's the one I´ve been texting?"

"You left your phone on the coffee table at the penthouse and I saw when he sent you a message...a few messages, actually."

"Oh, so now we´re looking through each other's phones?"

"I didn't look through your phone," he protests, raising his finger at her. "I happened to be working at the living room, your phone vibrated and I thought it was mine, I picked it up and noticed it was yours. All I saw was the fact Jackson had sent a couple of messages, because I left the phone exactly where I found it seconds later."

Anna looks at Armie through narrowed eyes, her jaw clenched as he shrugs his shoulders. "I'm not sure I'm buying this, Hammer."

"Well, it's all done now, isn't it?"

"I hate you."

"No, you love me," Armie winks, pulling her closer and trying to give her a hug as she squirms away from his touch. "See? You give nothing but love to your siblings and that's how they repay you."

"Should I consider myself lucky for being an only child? That's what you´re trying to say?"

"It does have its perks, doesn´t it?"

Matthew shrugs. "It certainly has its perks, but I would kill to have the bond you two have. I was always a little bit jealous of it while we were growing up."

"Are you serious?," Anna asks, clearly surprised by their friend´s reveal. 

"I grew up watching you two be each other´s bigger supporters, but also always making fun and teasing one another. It certainly was a dynamic I envied in some degree, but mostly I just thought it was quite beautiful to see."

Anna smiles, reaching out for Matthew´s hand, which she gently squeezes. "That's sweet, Matt."

"Who would´ve thought we would be an example of sibling love, huh?"

"I always knew."

"Minutes ago you said you hated me, Anna," Armie says between chuckles as Anna rolls her eyes.

"Technicalities, Hammer, technicalities."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Last update of the year. I hope you guys have a nice time this New Year's Eve and that we all can have a better, more joyful and fun 2021. Love you guys and thank you for the constant support 💙💙


	10. Under The Spotlight

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> An opportunity comes along

The sky is clear, no clouds in sight as Armie drives down the busy streets of New York city, his eyes focused on the road while he waits for the call to be completed. Another week has started and with it, a new pile of work he must go through, which often results in him being stressed and restless. He glances at the rearview mirror before turning a left, jaw clenched as he swerves to the right in order to avoid hitting a car that comes way too fast and in the wrong direction.

He curses under his breath, slows down and inhales deeply, trying to keep himself calm. The day has just begun, he still has a lot he needs to deal with and a car crash is the last thing he wants right now -or ever. He sighs, parks the car in front of the nineteenth century building and glances up, biting his lip. He reaches for a folder on the passenger seat and is just about to turn off the car when the call finally connects and Megan´s voice fills the air.

"Morning, boss."

"Good morning, Megan."

"What can I help you with this fine morning?"

"Well, someone had a good weekend."

"You could say so."

Armie smirks, leaning his head back on the seat. "Look, I have a meeting right now and I have a feeling it might be one of those long ones, so I probably won't be at the office until after lunch."

"Okay. Do you want me to do anything for you?"

"Just hold the fort while I'm gone," he quickly replies. "Which I know you´re more than capable of doing, but if anything does happen, you can text or call me."

"Don´t worry, boss, I´ll make sure the building is still up when you come back."

"Thanks, Megan," he smiles. "Oh, I also need you to make a copy of the Notre Dame project file for me."

"You already decided who's gonna work on it?"

"Yes, I did."

"May I know who it is?"

"And risk you telling the person before me?," he chuckles. "No, you may not."

"That's mean, Armie."

"Just make the copy and leave it at my desk, alright?"

"Whatever you want, boss."

"I'll see you later."

"Good luck on your meeting."

"Thanks, I have a feeling I'll need it," he says before hanging up. He turns off the car, grabs his things and quickly gets out. He takes a look around the street, locks the car behind him and slowly makes it to the building, ringing on the intercom. It takes a few seconds, but eventually a tall woman in a red dress opens the door, her black hair pulled back in a high ponytail, her make-up impeccable and her smile as forced as one would expect. "Good morning, I have a meeting with Mr. Crawford."

"Of course, come on in," she leads Armie in, glancing over her shoulder at him before she makes it to the small desk where her computer and phone are set. "Who may I introduce?"

"Armie Hammer."

"Oh," she nods, puts the phone down and turns back to him, her smile much more pleasant all of a sudden. "Mr. Crawford asked to take you right in, Mr. Hammer."

Armie simply nods, follows her up the stairs and then down the hallway, the building one he knows it well. His father and Mr. Crawford have been business partners for decades now, which meant Armie spent many days of his young life inside these walls, following his father around whenever he had a meeting with the man. Ever since he took over the business though, the relationship was slightly stranded and he feared this meeting would only make things worse.

"Mr. Crawford," the woman says while opening the door. "Mr. Hammer is here, Sir."

"Send him in," the deep voice says from the inside and the woman immediately takes a step back, giving Armie enough room to walk past her and inside the spacious and bright office. "Armand, is nice to have you here."

"It's great to be here, Mr. Crawford," he forces a smile, shaking hands with the man. "I hope we can solve everything today."

"You and me both, Armand," he smiles, glances at the secretary over Armie´s shoulder and gestures for her to exit the room. "Bring us some coffee, please."

"I´ll be right back, Sir."

Armie watches her leave, then takes a seat across from Crawford, who´s expression is a lot more serious now. 

"So, shall we begin?"

* * *

  
  
  


Timothée scrolls through his phone while making his way inside campus, the constant murmur around him making him slightly distracted from the text he tries to write down. He sighs, glances around himself and smiles as he spots Jackson sitting at one of the benches, a large cup of coffee in one hand while the other flips through a textbook.

He rushes over to his side, nearly throwing himself down beside him on the bench. He chuckles as he notices his startled face, winks and reaches for his coffee, taking a few long sips of it. As Jackson snaps the coffee back to himself, Timothée smirks and leans back on the seat, green eyes attentive to their surroundings.

"So, what the hell happened to you?"

"What do you mean?"

"Chloe and I kept calling and texting you all Sunday, but you simply wouldn't answer us back," he explains, arms crossed as Jackson nods. "Is everything okay?"

"Yeah, everything's alright. Anna called me early in the morning, wondering if I was interested in going out, so we planned to have lunch together and in the end, spent most of the day wandering around the city. It was quite fun and we got to know each other a little bit better."

"Dude, you´re so smitten."

"Don't overreact," Jackson chuckles, closing the textbook. "We´re just getting to know each other and while we are having a lot of fun, it doesn't necessarily mean anything serious."

"That's bullshit," Timothée scoffs. "You met on Friday, have already slept together and are going out for a Sunday stroll. It's only a matter of time until you are meeting the parents and setting up the date for the wedding."

"Idiot."

"And you know I don´t care much about this kind of stuff, but if I´m not your best man, then we´re gonna have some problems, my friend."

"Seriously, stop. You keep saying those things, last thing you know you mention it in front of her and end up scaring her off."

"I don't think so," Timothée quickly says, pulling his legs up and wrapping his arms around them, his chin now rested upon his knee. "As far as I could tell, she seemed pretty into you, man. I can actually see the two of you having a nice and long relationship, you seem to balance each other well."

"Wouldn't that be a little weird, though?"

Timothée frowns, shrugging his shoulders.

"Why would it be weird?"

"Because of her brother."

"Oh," Timothée sighs, scratching the back of his neck. "You don't have to worry about that, alright? No matter how crazy my life might be, it shouldn't interfere with yours in any shape or form."

"I get that, but I also don't want to put you into any uncomfortable situations."

"More uncomfortable than the one I´m already in? I doubt that's even possible, Jack."

"You do have a point."

Timothée chuckles. "Anyway, Pauline finally called me back."

"How is she?"

"She's doing great, still loves Paris more than anything in the world."

"She's never coming back, is she?"

"I doubt it," he scrunches his nose. "Which is sad for us, who don´t get to be around her as often as we'd like, but it's great for her."

"True," Jackson nudges Timothée, gestures over to the main building and pushes himself up, waiting until his friend is up too. "Have you told her what happened?"

"Obviously."

"And how did she react?"

"It´s Pauline, how do you think she reacted?"

* * *

  
  
  


There´s a murmur all around the office, people talking, low music playing and the occasional clicking of someone's heels going around. Sitting quietly, Timothée has his elbows up on the desk, his chin resting on his palm as his eyes scan through one of the pages in his notebook, which is filled with notes for a project he needs to work on for one of his classes.

He sketches something down on the bottom of the page, frowns as he realizes inspiration hasn't really been his biggest friend for the day and pushes himself up, stretching out his arms before crossing the office and making his way over to the small cafeteria. He goes through the cupboards, grabs a box of tea and heats up some water on the microwave, adding the tea bag as soon as he takes it out.

He leans against the wall, moving the spoon all around the mug as he stares out of the window, the streets of New York crammed with people, the Sun starting to hide behind a couple of clouds. He brings the mug closer to his face, inhales deeply and smiles as the sweet scent of the tea fills up his nostrils. He takes a small sip, lickes his lips and reaches back for his phone, opening the camera. 

He snaps a photograph, little chuckles escaping him as he uploads the photo to his Instagram, Jackson´s like coming almost immediately, followed swiftly by Pauline´s. He then sees the direct message notifications and opens it, rolling his eyes as he sees it´s from Pauline, who desperately asks for more office photos. He frowns, glances around the cafeteria and then snaps a photo from the window, giving her a glimpse of the view they have from up there.

He then locks his phone, places it back in his pocket and takes his mug with him as he exits the cafeteria, his eyes down as he moves the spoon gently, watching as little waves form on the cup. He stops as the doors to the elevator open and Armie steps out of it, wearing black jeans and a cream sweater, that hugs his body perfectly and makes him look so goddamn huggable, Timothée could easily bury himself in his chest and just stay there for hours. 

He stares at him silently for a moment, wondering why he arrived so late at the office, but also contemplating the casual clothes he is wearing. The realization that he seems to look good in pretty much everything he wears is slightly annoying, but Timothée absolutely forgets about it when Armie turns around, his eyes meeting his and a smile spreading across his face, which nearly causes his knees to buckle.

"Timothée, exactly who I wanted to see."

"Is everything okay?"

"Yes, I just need to talk to you."

"Of course," Timothée says, despite his confusion. "Is there anything I can do for you, Mr. Hammer?"

As the words leave his lips, all Timothée can think about are the million different things he would actually love to do to and for him. And as his cheeks begin to flush, he grips tighter onto the mug and smacks his lips together, in order to keep himself from saying anything embarrassing. 

"You do know you don't have to call me Mr. Hammer, right?"

"Yes, but I think right now is better if I do."

"Right," Armie practically mumbles, his head down for a moment and Timothée knows he understands what he is trying to say. Their relationship is still rocky, there needs to be some barrier between them, something that reminds both of them of the dynamic they have to follow and Timothée believes keeping things as formal as possible is the best way to do it. "I understand your point."

"Thank you."

"I need to discuss something with you," he explains after a moment of silence and gestures over his shoulder. "Come with me, please."

"Okay."

Timothée bites his lip as he follows Armie across the office, his eyes falling down to his ass, entranced by the way it moves with every step that he takes. He curses under his breath, glances up in time to see Megan shooting him a cheeky look and simply rolls his eyes, hoping she hasn't realized just how thirsty he actually is.

He walks inside the office with his heart beating faster, his eyes wandering around the place as he hears Armie close the door behind them. He glances over at him and watches him sit down on his chair, picking up a file from the desk and flipping through it before he gestures for him to sit down too.

"Did I do something wrong?," Timothée questions while sitting down, legitimately confused on why he is there after only a few days of work. "Because if I did..."

"That would probably be a record," Armie mocks as Timothée chuckles, glancing down at his mug, which he keeps gripping as if his life depended on it. "But no, you haven't done anything wrong. I called you here because we have a new partner we are working with and I happen to think you are the perfect person to have this project."

"You want to assign me to my first project?"

"If you think you can handle it, yes."

"What is the job exactly?"

"Creating a visual identity and marketing campaign for a bilingual school."

"And you think I´m the right person to take care of that?"

"The reason why I hired you is because I could see the potential you had, Timothée," he smiles, turns the file around and slides it across the table towards Timothée. "Like I said, the project is the creation of a visual identity and marketing campaign for a bilingual school, which focuses on French as a second language for teenagers and young adults. I thought since you speak French and you´re young, you could have an interesting approach to this."

Timothée nods, the smile that spreads across his face nearly impossible to contain. He is more than happy to have Armie trust him into his first project when he's been in the team for only three days, but he also fears screwing this up completely and letting him down.

"I have some information on the school, what the owner expects, their main focus and goal. I want you to take a look at it and think about it, if you feel comfortable enough, it's yours to work on. But I don't want you to feel pressured to do anything, if you rather start working in groups, I understand."

"I want to try," he quickly replies, reaching out to take the file from Armie. "It means a lot to me that you would trust me with this, Mr. Hammer."

"I trust my employees and judging by what I've seen from you, I think you have what it takes to work on this."

"Thank you."

"But you don't have to give me a final answer right now," Armie assures him. "Go through the file, think things through and then you let me know what you decided. Does that sound okay?"

"Yes, it does," he smiles, pushing himself up from the chair. "I'll have an answer by the end of the day".

"I'll be waiting then."

Timothée nods, holding the file against his chest as he walks to the door. He stops just as he opens it, turns back around and smiles, eyes locked on Armie's.

"Thank you."

  
  


* * *

The Sun has disappeared behind the clouds that now fill up the late afternoon sky and leave the office a lot darker than usual, although the shadows produced by the little light that does come in, creates beautiful patterns in the walls and floor. Sitting quietly on his desk, his mug set aside along with his notebook, Timothée carefully goes through the folder Armie gave him, trying to set his mind on exactly what is being required from the client and the type of audience they are aiming for.

He has to admit, the project has a lot of potential, while still being something small and easy, which seems like the perfect combination for him to get started. Armie did suggest working first with a group, but since he's still getting to know people and hasn't had the opportunity to show others much of his work, he believes doing this on his own will be better. Not only that, by doing this on his own, Timothée gets to show Armie exactly how into the job he is and can showcase his talent beyond what he previously saw through his portfolio.

He smiles at himself, still dumbfounded by the idea that on his third day of work, Armie would already entrust him with a project of his own. And it´s not like he had any doubts that Armie hired him for his talent, after everything he's heard he can tell he is one respectful man and would never hire him for the fact they slept together, but it felt good to have something to ensure that.

"Green eyes," Megan says in a singing tone, swirling around the office until she reaches his desk, where she gracefully sits down. "What is it that got you so focused, huh?"

"I got my first project," he says, cheeks hurting from smiling so much.

"You got the Notre Dame project?," she asks, big black eyes wide as he nods and a smile spreads across her red lips. "Timothée, that's amazing."

"I know, right? I'm here for three days and I already got myself a project, I honestly can´t believe it."

"I admit, I thought of you when I first read the project."

"Because of my fancy name?"

"Maaaaaybe," she chuckles, gets up and pulls on an empty chair, sitting beside Timothée. "This is a really cool project and you´ll get to showcase your talent in a very special kind of way. I'm really happy for you, Tim."

"Thanks."

"So you're already sketching ideas?"

"No, I´m just going through the project. I haven't even told Mr. Hammer I´m gonna accept his offer."

"What?"

"He thought I´d like some time to think, so I said I´d give him an answer by the end of the day. Obviously, there was no way I was going to say no to this, but it seemed like he wanted to make sure I was comfortable with the situation and that I find myself capable of doing."

"That's Armie for you," she says, putting quite a lot of emphasis on Armie, which makes Timothée chuckle. "He´s a great man and an even better boss, you´ll soon realize that he does everything to ensure we feel safe and comfortable at all times around here. And when we get to the end of the month and we all go out for drinks, you´ll see just how much fun he can be."

"You weren't joking when you said everyone has a crush on the man, huh? And it seems like you´re his biggest stan."

"What? Absolutely not," she shakes her head, rolling her eyes as Timothée shoots her a look. "Armie and I have always been very close, but since day one I have always seen him as a brother of sorts. Sure, I admit the man is gorgeous as hell, his blue eyes are quite entrancing, but there's no sexual attraction here."

"If you say so."

"I mean it, alright."

"And I believe you."

"No, you don´t."

"Okay, maybe I don´t."

She groans, crossing her arms as Timothée gently nudges her, trying to make her laugh.

"Stop it, I´m not talking to you any more."

"Now you're gonna make me cry."

"Good," she says dryly, although there's a hint of a smile on the corner of her lips. As they hear a door open, they both glance to their left, watching as Armie steps out of his office, a serious and rather disconcerting look upon his face. Megan quickly gets up, fixing her dress and hair as he approaches Timothée´s desk. "Is everything okay, boss?"

"Define okay," he replies rather dryly, which causes both Timothée and Megan to cock their eyebrows. "Sorry, I shouldn't be unleashing my anger on you guys, you have nothing to do with this."

"Mr. Crawford?," Megan wonders, leaning her hip against the desk as Armie slowly nods. "I take the meeting this morning didn't make things easier."

"It might have made things worse."

"I never liked that man," she says under her breath as Armie chuckles. "Sorry, but it's true."

"It's okay, I was never his biggest fan either," he smiles, winks at her and then leans slightly to the right so he can look at Timothée, who glances up at him with a small smile, while inside he's doing everything he can not to break down and just melt under his stare. "Have you got an answer for me?"

"I´ll take it," is all he says, earning a large and honestly mind-blowing smile from Armie. "And I can only thank you for the opportunity, Mr. Hammer."

"That's why I hired you for, Timothée," he replies. "But I'm glad you´re taking this project, I have a feeling you´re the perfect person for it."

"And he's usually right with his feelings," Megan adds, winking at Timothée.

"I have to go now, but I´ll see you both tomorrow."

"Take care, boss, have a few drinks to relax and forget about Mr. Crawford."

"A few drinks might not do the trick," he says while walking towards the elevator, glancing at Megan over his shoulder. "Maybe a whole bottle of Tequila will do it though."

"Then go for it."

"Goodbye, everyone," he gives a general wave, his eyes landing on Timothée one more time before the steps into the elevator, the doors closing seconds later.

"What the deal with Mr. Crawford?," Timothée asks once Megan looks back at him.

"Oh, that's quite an interesting story. Why don't we sit down, my friend," she smirks, sitting back down as Timothée does the same.

  
  


* * *

  
  


The elevator doors open to a rather dark and quiet parking lot, only a few cars left and the sound of rain already taking over the place. Armie sighs, already dreading another night of work ahead of him, piles and piles of papers, contracts and projects to analyse. He gets inside his car, leans his head back on the seat and closes his eyes for a brief second, counting until ten before he can open them again. 

His phone vibrates and he reaches back for it, noticing a message from his sister, urging him to go back home as soon as he can. He frowns, slightly concerned, but replies a quick  _ okay _ before he starts the car and drives off. The streets are crammed, cars everywhere as people try their best to escape the rain that only seems to get more intense as the seconds pass.

Armie takes a few shortcuts, swerving left and right, doing his best to take the less crowded streets and get home faster. Luckily, his efforts are rewarded, because in about twenty minutes he is already parking in the garage of his apartment building. He quickly gets out, locking the car behind him as he makes his way to the private elevator, punching in his code and watching as the doors slowly close on him.

He glances down, notices a new message from his father come along and sighs, aware he has probably already talked to Mr. Crawford and is furious at him for how the meeting proceeded. He doesn't have the time -or patience- to reply though, because when he least expects, the doors open once again and he is met with Anna, who stands by the kitchen, setting up the silverware on the counter.

"What the hell is going on here?," he asks slightly confused, arching an eyebrow as he steps into the penthouse, the smell of food taking over the entire place. "Are you cooking?"

"Hell no, I ordered some food," she replies through chuckles. "It was a bit cold though, so I decided to heat it up before you got here."

"And to what do I owe this surprise?"

"Just a sister trying to help out her brother," she smiles, grabs his hand and pulls him closer, forcing him to place the folder and backpack down before sitting in one of the stools. "Margareth keeps asking me how you're doing, if you´re eating well and making sure you get your rest, so I thought I could play the good little sister and just come and babysit you for the night."

"Right," Armie´s tone is one of disbelief, as if he knows there´s something else behind his sister's intentions. "Why don't I believe you?"

"I actually mean every single word I said, alright?," she hops on the stool beside his, pulls the plates closer and hands him one, before taking a quick sip of her wine. "Although, I wouldn't mind if we took some time to talk about the awesome day I had with Jackson yesterday."

"Oh, that's why you completely disappeared? I thought it was strange how you didn´t text, call or show up here yesterday. First time you've ever done that ever since you got back from London."

"I called him for lunch, we ended up spending the entire day together."

"You´re really into this guy, aren't you?"

"Maybe a little bit more than I should," she admits, her cheeks turning a little bit red as Armie looks at her with inquisitive eyes. "I know it sounds silly, but I´ve never really been with anyone younger than me and I think a part of me is still getting used to that."

"He´s Timothée´s age, right?," she nods and Armie shrugs. "Six years is not that big of a difference, sis, I´m pretty sure you can deal with it."

"I know I can, I have dealt with far worse things, but it's a matter of me getting used to it."

"I'm sure you'll do it soon enough," Armie smiles, winks at her and then turns his attention down to the plate in front of him. "This looks delicious."

"It was one of the first things I saw on the menu and couldn't stop thinking about it," she giggles. "It´s lemon and spinach ravioli with spice salmon cooked in ginger butter."

"Quite fancy."

"Only the best for my big brother," Armie chuckles, but Anna can tell there´s something different in his eyes, which makes her slightly concerned. "What is going on with you? You look awfully tired for a Monday."

"I had a meeting with Mr. Crawford and it didn't go well at all," he sighs, rubbing his temple. "We've been trying to get an agreement on the contract for two months now, but he won't have it, doesn´t think we're giving him enough money."

"I never liked that man," Anna admits. "He always gave me the creeps, not to mention I hated how loud and obnoxious he was."

"He was never my favorite guy either, but he never really gave us much of a problem, you know?"

"It seems he gets greedier with age."

"Maybe," Armie chuckles, shrugging his shoulders. "I just know he's gonna tell dad how badly the meeting we had this morning went and dad is gonna be pissed at me."

"Dad pissed at you? Not even when you were on the high of your shenanigans he got pissed at you, Armie, just relax."

"Dad can deal with me hickjacking his airplane to take us all to Mykonos on my birthday, but he's not that chill when work is involved, Anna."

"You´re the favorite son, the one who followed the family business and the man he knows would do anything for that company, I doubt he would allow Mr. Crawford to come in between the two of you."

"Let's hope you´re right," he says, sighing loudly. "Anyway, can we just eat? I'm starving and I don't want this to get cold again."

"Right, yeah, let's eat."

  
  


* * *

  
  


"...and it's not a huge project or anything, but I'm extremely happy for the opportunity that it was given to me," Timothée says while rushing up the stairs, a grocery store bag on one hand and his phone pressed against his ear. 

With the bad weather, the whole apartment building is darker than usual and most of his neighbors are now happily tucked inside their apartments, probably watching television while under a cozy blanket. He reaches the last step with a huff, his eyes wandering down the hallway for a brief second before he makes it to his apartment, unlocking the door.

"Sweetie, I'm so proud of you. I knew it wouldn't take long for you to find your place in the agency."

Timothée smiles, his mother´s support the one thing that has always been a constant in his life. Whenever he wanted to do something she was there, rooting for him, encouraging him to keep on going and reach for his dreams.

He kicks his shoes to the side, throws himself down on the couch and leans against the cushions, his feet resting upon the coffee table. He looks over at the balcony door, watching as the rain starts once again, the cloudy sky looking quite beautiful from where he is sitting. He feels serene, happy about his life, even if the last week was a bit stressful.

"What is the project exactly? I wanna know everything about it."

"Create the visual identity and the marketing campaign for a bilingual school," Timothée explains, a smile spreading across his lips as he looks up at the ceiling. "Like I said, it's nothing huge, but I know this is the perfect way to start. Armie, my boss, said I could start by doing a group project if I want, but I think doing this on my own, I can showcase my talent in a better way."

"You did the right thing, Tim. The fact you got this job is already proof enough of how incredible you are, but I know that by taking this project, you´re gonna be able to prove to everyone why you are worth it."

"Thanks, mom. I truly appreciate all the support you have and continue to give me."

"You´re my son, if I´m not here for you, who else will be?"

Timothée chuckles. "Some parents can be quite intense, you know? Tough love and all of it."

"I´m not that type," she quickly answers. "Anyway, do you have any ideas of what you´re gonna be doing with the project already?"

"I got some ideas, but I haven't sketched anything down yet."

"I want to see everything, okay?"

"Okay."

"Now go get yourself something to eat, I'm sure you're starving."

"I am," he replies while pushing himself up. He walks to the kitchen, taking the grocery bag with him and sets it down on the counter, where he leans against it. "I miss you, mom."

"I miss you too, honey."

"Tell dad I love him and hope we can see each other soon."

"Will do," she quickly says. "Good luck on your project and remember, we love you deeply."

"Love you too, mom," he hangs up the phone and places it down on the counter, his eyes moving along the entire kitchen as he tries to decide what to do. He unpacks the groceries, looks through the cupboards and grabs a bowl, flour and eggs, laying it all down on the counter. After only three days in the job, he managed to get himself his first project, one that is interesting and full of potential, so Timothée is gonna make sure he celebrates it, even if on his own. 


	11. Celebrate The Good Times

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The boss's favorite

The rain has given a truce and the clouds have left the sky, although it's still quite cold and gloomy. Sitting on the steps of the library, Timothée has the folder with the briefing of the Notre Dame project in his hand, studying every little bit of it. He sighs, reaches for his backpack and takes his sketchbook out of it, flipping through a couple of the pages until he finds a blank one.

A smile spreads across his lips as he starts working on some of his ideas, trying to first visualize a logo that would fit the client's needs and still be good enough to attract the attention of his target audience. He glances up, notices the influx of students and checks the time, cursing under his breath as he realizes it's almost time to make it to class. 

He collects his things, stuffs them in his backpack and pushes himself up, rushing down the steps and making his way across the campus towards the main building. He runs inside, eyes wandering around the hallways in search of his friends, which he eventually spots by one of the classrooms. 

He runs over to them, holding tight onto the straps of his backpack, their names leaving his lips and attracting quite a few confused stares. He chuckles, nearly stumbling on his own feet as he tries to stop all of a sudden, supporting himself on Jackson, who looks at him confused.

"Dude, what the hell?," he asks in between chuckles, holding onto Timothée´s elbows to support him. "Are you alright?"

"Great, actually," he smiles. "Do you guys have plans for tonight?"

Jackson and Chloe glance at each other for a brief moment, shaking their heads. "No, why?"

"Well, then you guys are going out for dinner with me. I'll even pay for it."

"Not that I would ever say no to a free meal," Chloe chuckles. "But what is the occasion? Are we celebrating something?"

"Yes, we´re celebrating the fact I just got my first project."

"Wait, what?"

Timothée nods enthusiastically, unable to control his smile.

"Armie just assigned me with my very first project. It´s small, but it has potential, it's all mine and I'm so freaking happy about it, you guys have no idea."

"Three days working there and you already got yourself a project of your own? Timothée, that's incredible."

"It is, specially after that horrendous interview. When I saw Armie there, I thought all my chances had gone down the drain, yet here I am."

"I told you sometimes we need to relax and let life take its course," Chloe winks, pulling him closer to her. "God, I´m so happy for you. This is a great opportunity and I can´t wait for you to show all those nerds over there just how freaking talented you are."

"It's not a competition, Chloe."

"Maybe not, but if it was, you would definitely win."

Timothée chuckles, shrugging his shoulders. "Okay, so where should we go tonight? I want to celebrate this achievement on a high note."

"There´s a new Sushi bar close to your apartment, isn't there?"

"Oh, good idea, I heard there's a karaoke there."

"Yeah, not exactly my thing," Jackson scrunches his nose. "But I think I can deal with you two singing awfully for one night."

"I have the voice of an angel, alright?"

"Chloe, please, I know you´re all about being positive, but that's straight out lying to yourself."

Chloe gasps, looking over at Timothée, who laughs. "Neither one of you deserve me."

"See, you hurt her feelings," Timothée mocks, wrapping his arms tightly around Chloe as she pouts. "I promise I'll pay a lot of sushi to make you feel better."

"I do like the sound of that."

"Figured you would."

* * *

  
  
  


Armie sips on his coffee, his eyes down to his phone as the elevator empties on the eighteenth floor. He sighs, straightens himself up and quickly steps out of the elevator as the door opens, revealing the ample and bright office of the company. He takes a quick look around, giving a collective wave to his team, in his lips a small, but quite gentle and warm smile.

He makes his way across the room, stopping by some of the desks to talk to his employees, check on their projects and share a word or two. He then walks towards Megan's desk, noticing she's highly focused on something she's reading and barely even notices his approach. He frowns, leans against the desk and gently taps her shoulder, unable to stop himself from chuckling when she jumps in her seat, slightly startled. 

"Sorry, I didn't know you were that concentrated on...," he tries to glance at whatever she's reading, but can't really make it out what it is, so he simply gestures towards it. "On whatever that is."

"Just work," she pouts, leaning back on her chair and stretching out her arms. "Anyway, good morning, boss."

"Good morning," he smiles. "Got anything for me?"

"A few things, actually. Mr. Crawford called and demanded you call him as soon as you have the chance."

"Of course he does," he rolls his eyes, a loud sigh escaping him. "What else?"

"The guy from that construction company you asked me to call has finally called back, he can have an appointment with you either tomorrow afternoon or Friday morning."

"Call him back and say tomorrow is fine, I want to get this over with as soon as possible."

"Alright," she reaches for a post-it, makes a note about it and sticks to her computer, before turning back to Armie. "Lilian, from the publishing agency called too, she wants to talk to you about your grandfather's book. She said you should call her whenever you have time."

"Okay, I'll call her later. Anything else?"

"Just a couple of new projects that you have to approve, I've already left them at your desk."

"Thanks, Megan," he winks, twirls around and heads to his office, stopping by the door. "I want to get through most of these things this morning, so unless it's really important..."

"You don't want to be interrupted, got it."

"Thanks," he smiles, walks inside the office and closes the door behind him. He takes a quick look at his desk, where a couple of drawing boards are spread, but first makes his way to the large windows, watching the city below him as he finishes his coffee. 

He leans against the wall, taking in the peace of the moment before he can get drowned in work. After a few minutes, and once his coffee is finished, Armie walks back to his desk, taking a seat as he pulls the first drawing board near him. He analyses every little detail of it, makes notes about each piece, highlights what he likes and dislikes, while also making sure the projects all fit what the clients have requested.

Once he goes through them all, Armie moves along to the folders that are piled up to the side of the desk. He takes one by one, going through all the details there, while also signing some of the papers. By the time he is done with that, he turns to the computer, scrolling through pages and more pages of visuals for the agency's new marketing campaign for a big supermarket, which has been in development for a few weeks now and is finally taking shape.

Focused on all the work he has, Armie barely even notices how quickly time goes by and once he gives himself a chance of a break, it's almost one and his stomach is growling. He sighs, fingers running through his hair as he gets up from the chair and takes a few steps around the office, stretching out his long legs while also cracking the knots on his fingers. 

He stops by the windows once again, inhaling deeply as he watches the mess of cars and people down in the street. He stares quietly for a moment, trying to relax his mind and body, unwind before he can think of how he still has five more hours of work ahead of him. Suddenly, a knock on the door catches his attention and once he glances over his shoulder, Armie sees Matthew opening the door, a large smile on his face and two plastic bags on his hand. 

"What are you doing here?"

"It's my last day in the city and while I know you're a very busy man, I thought you could take a break and have lunch with your best friend?"

"I don't know, you didn't set up an appointment and I'm a really busy man."

"Fuck you," Matthew rolls his eyes, opening some space on the desk to set down the bags.

"What did you bring?"

"Steak and french fries," he shrugs, taking a seat on the chair nearby. "Is this good or you'd like something a bit more fancy, Mr. Hammer?"

"After all these years, I'm pretty damn sure you know I'd never say no to a steak."

"Oh, that I know. You look like a goddamn savage when eating steak and if I remember correctly when we were in Italy during a summer, you ate one that was nearly raw."

"Yeah, that wasn't the most pleasant experience of my life, I have to admit," he chuckles, sitting back down on his chair and taking one of the containers Matthew hands him. He opens it, takes a few fries and stuffs it in his mouth, a low moan escaping him afterwards. "Oh, these are good."

"I know, right?"

"At what time does your plane leave?"

"Around six," Matthew sighs. "And I still got some things to pack."

"You've always been a procrastinator."

"I have and I won't even try to deny it," he shrugs, handing a fork and a knife to Armie. He takes a few french fries into his mouth, his fork messing around the plastic plate before he glances back at Armie. "So, did your boy say yes to the project?"

"He's not my boy, Matt."

"Fine," he rolls his eyes, although Armie can spot a little smirk on his face. "Did Timothée say yes to the project?"

"Yes, he did. He seems quite enthusiastic about it also, so I guess I did the right thing by offering it to him."

Matthew nods, leaning back on the chair. "You always seemed to have a good eye for choosing who was good for each task, even back in school, you'd always be the one assigning everyone what to do in group projects."

Armie laughs, nodding his head.

"So if you think he is the perfect person for this project, he probably is. Also, the fact he's already got something of his own to work on after being here for only three days, I'm sure he's thrilled, frightened and ready to do his best work and prove his value to the company."

"I guess you're right," he shrugs. "God knows I was freaking out when I got my first solo project."

"Well, you had the weight of being the boss's son on your shoulder, which made everything worse. Timothée's probably trying to prove himself worthy of being here, you had to prove to everyone else that you were here because you were talented, not because you were the heir."

"Yet, those days things seemed a lot less stressful."

"It's not easy being the boss, is it?"

"No, not at all."

"But you're doing a good job and your dad is insanely proud of you, so you should be happy," he winks. "All my parents do is contest every decision I ever made, so you hold on to what you got."

"Eventually your parents will understand that they should be proud of you for being who you are, not be disappointed because you don´t fit the mold they wanted you to."

"Is like you don't even know my parents," Matthew chuckles, setting his feet up on the table. “But I like that you're this optimistic about them finally accepting me for who I am.”

“That's the dream of any kid, right?”

Matthew shrugs, moving his fork around the plate. “I guess so, but sadly for us, not everyone gets to have good parents, or step-mothers, like you. So cherish them, my friend.”

“You know that's something I do,” he smiles, leaning back on the chair, his feet up on the desk too as he tries to relax a little bit.

* * *

  
  
  


"Thanks, Greg," Timothée takes the two cups of steaming hot coffee with him, turns on his heels and hands one to Jackson, who's standing by the side, staring up at the building across the street. People come in and go, the big bold letter spelling out HAMMER looking more shiny than ever. "It's a beautiful building, isn't it?"

"It really is," he nods, takes the cup in his hand and sips on it. "It's weird, but I've walked past this building quite a few times, yet I never really took time to appreciate the beauty of it the way it deserves."

"Wanna check the inside?"

"Oh, I don't know," he glances down at Timothée, cocking an eyebrow. "I don't want to disturb anyone, you know."

"Who are you going to disturb? Just come in, take a quick look around the place and then you head out."

"You think that will be alright?"

"Yes, I think that will be alright," he rolls his eyes, takes Jackson's arm in his hand and pulls him with him across the street and inside the building, waving at the two men at the front desk. He stops by the elevators, waits until one arrives and walks in, pressing the button to the twentieth floor. "You'll love the view from up there, you can see all the say to Central Park, it's insane."

"Can you imagine being so rich you own a building like this?"

"Can't really, it's beyond my wildest dreams," he chuckles, nudging Jackson. "But you know, if this whole thing with Anna works out, you might be getting a glimpse into all of this richness."

"You make it sound like I'm a fucking gold digger."

"I was just joking, dude, relax."

As the doors open, Timothée gestures for Jackson to follow him and goes straight to his desk, setting his backpack down on the floor. He takes his hand, leads him across the office and stops by one of the windows, a cheeky smile as he watches the expression in Jackson's face. He looks like a little kid who's just seen the ocean for the first time.

"I told you it was insane."

"And you were not wrong," he nearly mumbles, shaking his head before he takes a quick look around the place. "With a view like this one, it's quite easy to gain inspiration, huh?"

"I'll answer that after I go through my first dry spell here, alright?"

"Alright," Jackson laughs, following Timothée back to his desk. He hears voices, glances over his shoulder and sees Armie stepping out of his office, Matthew right behind him. "Oh, shit."

"What? Scared of what your future brother-in-law is gonna think of you?," Timothée mocks.

"Shut up."

Timothée chuckles, watches as Armie says goodbye to Matthew and then turns his attention to him, a frown forming on his face as he notices Jackson standing there. Suddenly, a part of Timothée fears he might have made a mistake by simply bringing him in without saying anything, but the small smile that spreads across Armie's face when he reaches them tells him he didn't really need to worry.

"Good afternoon, Timothée."

"Good afternoon, Mr. Hammer," he smiles, a hand landing on Jackson's shoulder. "This is my friend, Jackson, he wanted to check the office."

"I wonder when you'll stop calling me Mr. Hammer," Armie muses, a little smirk on his face, his eyes lingering on Timothée for a moment before he clears his throat and turns to Jackson. "So, you're the man who's sweeped my sister off of her feet?"

"I'm not sure that's true."

"Oh, but I know it is. Lately you're all she's talked about and I was getting quite anxious to meet you."

"You were?"

"Well, it's not often my sister gushes so much about a guy," Armie shrugs and Timothée immediately notices Jackson's cheeks getting flushed. "You seem like a good guy, Jackson, I have a feeling you'll be good to my sister."

"I can only hope so."

"I need to go back to work now, but it was a pleasure to meet you," he shakes hands with Jackson, then turns to Timothée. "How's the project going?"

"I have some ideas, but I just started putting them down on paper."

"Take your time, sketch as much as you can and let me know if you need anything."

"Thank you, Mr. Hammer."

Armie simply nods, turns around and walks back to his office, Megan quickly following. Timothée sighs, biting his lip as he throws himself down on the chair. He raises his gaze as he notices Jackson's stare and cocks an eyebrow in wonder.

"What?"

"Why did he make a point of you calling him Mr. Hammer?"

"Because apart from me, everyone just calls him Armie," he explains while leaning back, his eyes moving along the room to make sure there's no one close by. "But I need to keep some sort of boundary in between us, you know? Remind myself constantly that he is the boss until everything's sorted."

"You have feelings for the guy," Jackson whispers. "I doubt things will magically sort out anytime soon, Tim."

"Shut up."

"Just being honest," he shrugs. "Anyway, I'll let you start working, we'll see each other tonight."

"You're gonna call Anna?"

"Maybe," he smiles, taking a few steps back. "See you later, bro."

"See ya," he watches Jackson, chuckling as he stumbles on his own feet and then tries his best to pretend nothing happened. As he enters the elevator, Timothée sighs, reaching for his backpack, from where he takes his sketchbook from. It's time to get to work.

  
  


* * *

  
  


Timothée runs his fingers through his hair as he yawns, his eyes moving along the office, which now starts to get a lot more quiet. He reaches for his backpack, stuffs his things back inside and grabs his phone, pocketing it as he stands up from his chair. He notices Megan standing up too, and as she makes her way over to him, he can easily see the tired expression in her eyes. 

"Going home, Green Eyes?"

"Yep," he swings the backpack over his shoulder, following her to the elevator. "I divided my whole afternoon between sketching things for the project and trying to work on this assignment for class, so I'm in need of a nice and warm shower."

"I feel ya," she yawns, leaning against the wall as the elevator starts its descent. She ties her hair up in a messy bun, closes her eyes for a brief second and then sighs loudly. "Have you got sketched anything you think you'll be using or you're still exploring your options?"

"I'm still exploring. I don't want to rush things, so I'm gonna take my time and do some research, work on some layouts and then figure out what works best."

"I can tell you're a perfectionist."

"Not really a perfectionist, but when I decide to do something, I do my best to make sure it's the best version it could be."

"And I salute you for that," she smiles, looping her arm around his as they exit the elevator. "So, what are you doing tonight? Gonna work, curl up in bed with one of those books you always have with you or is there a hot guy waiting for you somewhere?"

"How do you know about the books?," he asks with a frown, to what Megan simply shrugs. "Anyway, I'm actually going out with some friends of mine. Why don't you join us?"

"Would love to, but I already have plans with my parents," she sighs, scrunching her nose. "I'm headed to Brooklyn now."

"Good luck with that," he smirks, nudging her gently. She chuckles, poking his side as they step into the sidewalk, both of them noticing Armie on the other side of the street, sipping on a large cup of coffee as he chats with Greg. "He looks tired."

"He must be, considering all that he had to deal with the last couple of days."

"Is there something wrong?"

"He's having problems with this guy who used to work with his family in all of their constructions, but it seems he's not entirely happy with how things are being dealt with now and Armie is not really happy with his attitude. Long story short, the man has a shit load of money and wants a lot more."

"That's how it usually works," Timothée bites his lip, his eyes lingering on Armie a moment more before he turns to Megan. "Why can't his dad deal with that and take some weight off of his shoulder?"

"The thing is, some people think Armie simply became the CEO of the company and dealt with the problems that were focused here, but the truth is he is in charge of every single one of the family businesses now. Douglas, his father, still deals with some things here and there, but everything goes through Armie."

"That's way too much responsibility," Timothée frowns. "And he's been doing this for six years?"

"Well, it was a gradual process, but yeah."

"I don't think I'd ever be suited for this, running an empire, dealing with thousands of people, all of them demanding attention and thinking their problems is more important than someone else's. It must be a nightmare."

"People usually think when you're the boss you don't really need to work, and I admit I was one of those people, but ever since I got here and saw all Armie and his father do, I completely changed my mind about this." 

"If I tried this, there would have to be a lot of booze involved," Timothée chuckles. "You know, to calm the nerves."

"Right," she smirks, takes one last glance at Armie and then looks back at Timothée. "I have to go now, but have fun with your friends, Green Eyes. I'll see you tomorrow."

"See you tomorrow," he gives her a quick hug, eyes following her down the street until she disappears in the middle of all the other people. He sighs, turns on his heels and notices as Armie slowly walks towards his car, phone in hand and a frown on his face. He really looks like he could use a drink and good massage, and Timothée would absolutely love to be the person delivering it.

* * *

  
  


"Dad, I´m not going to apologize for anything," Armie says while stepping out of the elevator, the lights of the penthouse turning on immediately. He kicks his shoes to the side, heads over to the kitchen and pours himself a glass of water, drinking it all in one go as his father goes on and on. "Dad, it's not right of Mr. Crawford to barge into our office and demand things. He has absolutely no right to extort money from us the way he's trying to do and I won't allow that to happen, alright?"

He sighs, leans against the counter and rubs his temples, his eyes closed for a brief moment as he tries to compose himself. His eyes are tired, his shoulders feel heavy, the weight of the week starting to take a toll on him. He has way too much to do and deal with, his father lecturing is the last thing he needs in the moment.

"Dad," he interrupts him, hands gripping onto the counter. "I´m sorry, but I won't do what you're asking me, because it simply isn't the right thing to do. Mr. Crawford is suppose to provide us a service, and no matter how long he's been working with the family, we can´t allow him to do this just because he thinks he has the right."

Armie hears his father's sigh as he walks over to the couch, flopping himself down on it and leaning back against the backrest. He closes his eyes, inhales deeply, finds himself turning his hand into a fist. The conversation with Mr. Crawford left him drained and angry, in desperate need of a shower and nice homemade meal.

"You put me in charge of this deal, dad, just like you put me in charge of the company," he interrupts, running his fingers through his hair. "You either trust me to do what I think it's best for us, or you just get back in charge and deal with things your own way."

He bites his lip, awaiting for his father´s reply. He knows he might have been a little harsh, but right now he can´t deal with this conversation any longer, neither does he think this is the type of conversation they should be having through the phone.

"Dad, can we please discuss this some other time? I´ve had a hell of a day and all I want right now is to take a shower, eat something and relax even if a little bit, before I can get drowned in work again," he nods, waits a second and then nods. "Okay, dad, we´ll talk about this later. Good night."

He hangs up the phone, tosses it to the side and rubs his face. He glances around the coffee table, the pile of files and papers staring back at him almost as if mockingly. He sighs, pushes himself up and walks back to the kitchen, filling up his glass once more. Taking a few sips, Armie walks back to the living room, takes his phone in his hand and moves to the patio, looking up at the sky as he tries to relax his body. A little smirk spreads across his lips as he unlocks his phone and quickly types down a message for Anna, already able to picture her face as she reads the words.

**_< armie>_ ** _ met ur bf today _

_ seems like an interesting dude  _

* * *

  
  


The restaurant is small, darker than most and with beautiful framed pictures of some of New York's most incredible landmarks. There's a queue outside that only seems to grow, dozens of people interested in taking a table in one of the city's newest and most required restaurants. When the sushi place they had planned to go was closed for the night, the four of them found themselves wandering the streets in search of somewhere else they could go and thanks to Anna, her connections and her famous last name, they managed a table in the hottest spot of the night.

The irony of celebrating his first project while out with Anna and using the Hammer last name to get them inside didn't go unnoticed by Timothée, who couldn't help but flush as he watched his friend sweet talk the hostess in getting them a table. Still, while the situation certainly was one he is not at all used to, Timothée tried not to dwell into it and enjoyed the perks of his friend's connection. The best seat in the room, the best Tequila and a steak that he was pretty much willing to kill someone for.

Amid laughter and silly conversations, Jackson clears his throat, raising his glass of Rum and Coke, a cheeky grin suddenly spreading across his face as he looks in Timothée's direction.

"I want to make a toast to our dear friend, Timothée, who just got himself a great project in which he will no undoubtedly be great at."

"Thanks," Timothée smiles, clinking glasses with Jackson, Chloe and Anna. "I'm glad I can celebrate this with you guys and I'm extremely excited to see this project come to life."

"It feels good to be the boss's favorite, huh?"

"Chloe!," he groans, shaking his head as she shrugs, chuckling. "I'm no one's favorite."

"I don't know," Anna takes her wine glass, gently twisting it from side to side, the dark red liquid trembling inside. "My brother seems quite pleased with having you in his team and judging by the things he's said about you, I wouldn't be surprised if you were, indeed, his favorite."

"You too?," Timothée sighs. "I'm there for four days, we barely even spoke to one another and I'm pretty damn sure if anyone was to take the favorite spot, it would be Megan."

"Megan is his right hand woman," Anna corrects. "Which means, there's still room for a favorite."

"Okay, now you guys just want to annoy me."

"Maybe," the three of them answer in unison, which makes Timothée roll his eyes.

"Anyway," he says, a smile spreading across his lips as he leans closer to Anna. "Anna, has Jackson told you that he got to meet your brother today?"

"He didn't, but Armie did."

"He did?," Jackson asks, eyes wide and hands gripping tightly onto the table. "What did he say?"

"Nothing that justifies how tense you just got," she chuckles. "He just said you showed up at the office and Timothée introduced you two. He said you guys didn't talk much, but he liked what he saw."

"That's good," he nods repeatedly, "right?"

"Yes, Jack, that's good," Chloe says in between chuckles. "I really need to meet Armie now, he seems to be fond of our little group and now I'm kind of feeling left out."

"Idiot," Timothée chuckles as she shrugs.

"I mean it."

"I'm trying to get him to join us for a few drinks, so don't worry, Chloe, you'll get to meet him soon."

"I sure hope so, I still want to know if he's just as gorgeous up close as he is in the magazines."

Anna laughs, shrugging her shoulders.

"Sorry, can't really help you with that one, for me he's just good old Armie, my annoying big brother."

"Tim?," Chloe asks, earning a glare.

"Just shut up, will you?"

"Fine fine, I'll focus my attention on my wine."

"Best thing you can do for all of us," he smirks, earning a glare from Chloe, to which he responds by blowing her a kiss.


	12. Thank The Stars It's Friday

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A common interest

It´s a gloomy Friday morning in New York city, the clouds filling up the sky, which seems to darken with each passing hour, the rain coming and going frequently. Inside campus, most students hide under the marquees or inside the buildings, while some brave the rain for some coffee. Sitting quietly by the large window on the library, Timothée has a pencil dangling from his fingers, his eyes stuck to the window, watching as raindrops slowly slide down the glass.

He sighs, glances down at the sea of papers that are scattered in front of him at the table. Some are notes for his classes, preparation for a test he has in about a few minutes, others are sketches for projects he has to hand out to his teachers, while on the big drawing board, rough sketches for the Notre Dame project. He glances at the clock that hangs on the wall, sighs as he notices it's nearly time to get to class and starts packing his things to make sure nothing will be left behind. 

He leaves only a book on the top of the table, his old copy of The Posthumous Memoirs of Bras Cubas, which he takes in his hand and flips through a couple of the pages, trying to find the place where he left off. The book is filled with notes, there are quotes circled with markers and pieces of papers hidden in between the pages, all of them a collection from years of reading and rereading. Given by his dad when he was just about ten, Timothée always kept that copy with him, no matter where he went.

He allows himself to get lost in his reading for a couple of minutes, only taking his attention away from the book when he hears movement around the hallway. He glances up, checks the time and quickly picks up his backpack, drawing board and book, keeping them under his arm as he braces the crowded steps of the library. Before even crossing the gardens, he spots Jackson wandering up the steps, head down as he types something on his phone.

He rushes over to him, dodging a few people on his way over, until he actually reaches his friend, nudging him gently on the side. Timothée glances down at Jackson´s phone, trying to take a peak at whatever he is writing down, but laughs as he gets shoved back, earning a glare from his friend.

"What? You don't want me to see what sort of filth you´re writing to your girlfriend?"

"She's not my girlfriend," he protests, although the little grin upon his face says otherwise. "We´re just two people who are getting to know each other."

"You´re seeing her almost every single day, Jack."

"So?"

"You´re dating, just accept it."

"We know each other for a week, Tim, I think it's a bit too early to label it as anything."

"Yeah, right."

"Anyway, how is the project going?"

"I finished the first draft of it and plan on showing it to Armie later today," he says, his eyes suddenly filled with concern. "I hope he'll like what he sees."

"Timothée, you´re..."

"If you say the word favorite, I swear to God, I´m gonna kick your ass."

"I wasn't going to say that," he laughs, raising his hand in surrender as Timothée shoots him a look. "I seriously wasn´t, okay? I was going to say that you´re incredibly talented and that I'm sure whatever you came up with is great and he will love it."

"I don´t know, he's been quite stressed lately, I feel like I have to be even better than normal if I want to make sure he is pleased with what he sees."

"Technically, the one person you need to please is the client who ordered the job, but I know where you´re coming from," he says with a shrug. "I mean, you would hate to let down your boyfriend, right?"

"He's not my boyfriend."

"Too early to label it?," Jackson mocks as Timothée rolls his eyes, shaking his head. "I´m just fucking with you, dude."

"Yeah, because that´s a very funny joke, isn't it?"

"You´re still hung up on him, aren't you? That whole thing of losing interest as the days go by is not actually working, is it?"

"I swear to God, this guy has done some sort of witchcraft on me. No matter what I do, he's always in my mind, one way or another."

Jackson nods, stopping in front of one of the many classrooms. He checks in, notices there is no teacher in sight and then turns back to Timothée. 

"I guess it´s time you admit that you´re in love with him, Tim, which means these things you feel whenever you see him, they won't just disappear in the blink of an eye."

"I know. I´ve been trying to fool myself into thinking this is just about sex, but I know it´s not."

"And what do you plan on doing about it?"

"Nothing?," he shrugs, a hint of desperation in his eyes. "He´s my boss, Jack, there´s nothing I can do. I guess I'll just have to learn how to leave with it."

"I´m here for you, dude," Jackson assures him, a hand landing on his shoulder, which he gently squeezes. "Now I have to go to class, I have some things I need to discuss with my teacher."

"Okay, I´ll see you later."

"Oh, you have any plans for tonight?," Jackson asks while taking a few steps back. "Anna and I might be going out for dinner, do you wanna join us?"

"I´m not gonna be the third wheel for you and your girlfriend," Timothée chuckles. "Also, I feel like this is gonna be one of those weekends where I´m stuck in my apartment, trying to get rid of the pile of school work I have on my coffee table."

"Seems fun."

"Really fun," he mocks, rolling his eyes as he turns on his heels, heading inside the classroom, where most of his classmates are already seated.

* * *

  
  


The rain has just started again when Armie makes it inside the restaurant, his eyes immediately wandering around the room in search of his sister as he takes off the jacket of his suit. He keeps the jacket in his hand as he walks through the tables, eventually spotting Anna, who sits quietly in a table near the window, her head down as she goes through her phone and her fingers gently tracing the brim of her glass.

He slides into the seat across from her with a loud sigh, drops the jacket on the vacant seat beside him and then buries his face in his hands, taking a second for himself. As he inhales deeply, trying to get himself to relax, even if just for a brief moment, Armie can feel his sister´s stare and once he glances up, the worry in her eyes is quite clear.

"Sorry I was late, but I have so much on my plate right now, I kind of lost track of time."

"I can see that," she says, sliding her wine glass over to him, who simply shakes his head. "I know you´re technically working, but I feel like you also might be in desperate need of a drink, brother."

"I am, although I don't think wine is gonna be enough to wind me down," he admits, taking her glass and sipping on it, licking his lips afterwards. "Did you order?"

"No, I was waiting for you."

"Then let´s do it, I´m fucking starving and I still have to go back to the company for round two," he rolls his eyes, reaches for one of the menus and quickly flips through it, a frown on his face as he tries to decide what he´s in the mood for. "Has dad talked to you about what is going on?"

"You mean the whole Mr. Crawford thing?," Armie nods and Anna chuckles. "You should know by now that dad doesn't even attempt to tell me anything related to the company, but I heard him talking to Margareth and he doesn´t sound pleased at all."

"He's been calling me almost every single day to try and discuss this, but I´ve reached the point where I´m just ignoring most of his calls."

"Don't you think it's better to just solve this whole thing once for all? I mean, Mr. Crawford is an asshole anyway, who doesn't deserve any of our money to go to him and you´re stressing yourself to a degree that you'll end up sick."

"We´ve not reached that point, Anna."

"You have bags under your eyes, you´re working until two or three in the morning, you´re missing lunch and dinner. I know you care a lot about work, brother, but you can´t allow it to consume you, alright?"

"It's better to keep my mind focused on work than keep thinking about...," he trails off, shakes his head and takes yet another sip of his sister´s wine.

"Thinking about what?," she asks, not ready to let go of the subject. "Or better yet, who?"

"Let's not go there, please."

"Is this why you´re working extra hard lately? You´re trying to keep your mind off of the fact Timothée is your employee? Because if you´re this tired after having him around for a little over a week, what's gonna happen after a month?"

"Anna, I really don't..."

"Armie, you´re in love with him and it's time for you to admit that, because pretending not to feel things is not gonna get you anywhere."

"Can I take your orders?," the waiter asks as he suddenly appears by their side.

"Yes, I'll have the grilled salmon with garlic baked potatoes and a Rum and Coke, please."

"Miss?"

"I´ll have the mushroom risotto, please."

"Anything else?"

"No, that's all."

"I'll be right back."

Armie nods, a warm smile on his lips as he watches the waiter walk away. He glances back at his sister, who keeps her eyes locked on him, her face displaying a dozen different expressions, all of them which Armie knows well.

"What?"

"You´re not gonna pretend we were not having a very serious discussion, alright?"

Armie sighs, shrugging his shoulders.

"What difference does it make if I am in love with the guy or not?," he questions her. "I can´t do anything about it, can I? He's my employee, a really good one it seems, so I need to keep myself away from him as much as possible."

"Okay, but I doubt drowning in work is gonna help you keep him out of your thoughts. I might not be an expert on the subject, but I don't think that's how you forget someone, brother."

"Anna, I came here so I could relax a little bit while having lunch with my sister. Can we stick to non-complicated topics? Like, you finally got a boyfriend that is worth something?"

Anna sighs, although she can´t help a smile from coming to her lips.

"Fine, but don't think I´m simply letting go of this, alright?"

"I know you won´t," he smiles, winking at her. "So, how's it going with the guy?"

"Quite good, actually. He's smart, funny and genuinely nice. We´re going out tonight, maybe you could join us."

"You think the right way to get me to relax is by third wheeling with you and your new boyfriend?"

"It doesn't have to be just you and us, we can get Chloe and..."

"Don´t...," he says before she can even finish, a little chuckle escaping her. "But if it makes you feel better, I´ll take the night out and just relax a little bit, have a drink and watch a movie."

"That´s code for I´m gonna be masturbating throughout the whole night, isn't it?"

"Can you please stop talking about my sex life? It's kind of sick."

"Prude."

"That's something I'm far from," he chuckles. "But you´re still my sister and that shit is weird."

"Fine, I´ll just stick to the boring things then," she rolls her eyes, but smiles when the waiter comes along, placing their plates down. "Thank you."

"That was fast," he takes his glass, taking a few long sips of his drink and for the first time since he woke up, Armie actually finds himself relaxing. "What are you doing?"

Anna glances up, phone in hand as she tries to get the best angle to take a picture of their plates. "What does it seem like I am doing?"

"Can´t you just eat?"

"You sound just like dad."

"Well, we all eventually grow up to be our parents, right?"

"That´s a sad thought," she chuckles as Armie rolls his eyes, taking his fork and stealing a little bit of her risotto. "Hey, stick to your plate."

  
  


* * *

  
  
  


Timothée fixes the strap of his backpack as he enters the Hammer building, his eyes scanning the lobby, a smile spreading across his lips as one of the girls in the front desk waves at him. After working there for a week and a day, Timothée is proud of himself for making quite a few colleagues, including people who work on different floors, but that have often crossed his path in the elevator, the lobby or by Greg´s coffee stand on the other side of the street. 

Truth be told, when he first walked through that lobby on the day of his interview, Timothée wasn't sure he would ever be able to fit in a place like this. But now he realizes that while some of the high profile businessmen are rich and slightly stuck up, most of the workers there are just like him, people with a dream, trying to get by and do something they love.

Standing by the elevators, Timothée keeps his eyes down to his phone, scrolling through a few messages from his friends, who are still trying to convince him to go out for the night, even if only for a couple of drinks. He sighs, types a quick reply and as he hears the doors open, steps into the elevator without even glancing up. He raises his gaze eventually, about to press the button to the twentieth floor, but notices it's already been pressed, which causes him to look to the side, just now realizing that Armie is standing right beside him.

"You do know you should look before stepping into an elevator, right?"

"Yes, I know."

"Not only it keeps you safe, but it also keeps me from getting a lawsuit," Armie says, a small smile on the corner of his lips. "And trust me, I´ve got enough on my plate already, I would love not to get even more thrown at me."

"Noted," Timothée smiles, feeling his cheeks burn a little. "I´ll make sure to be a bit careful from now on, Mr. Hammer."

Armie chuckles and to Timothée, the sight is almost as beautiful as a summer morning by the beach, when you can feel the warmth of the Sun in your skin and hear the waves crashing on the shore.

"Do you have any idea how old I feel whenever you call me Mr. Hammer?"

"Sorry," Timothée quickly replies, shaking his head. "It was never my intention to do this, I just..."

"No, it's okay, I get why you´re doing it and I understand. We´re both still trying to navigate this whole thing, so no need to apologize for anything."

"Right," Timothée nods, his voice almost a whisper. He glances up at the led display, watching as the numbers change quickly, the twentieth floor coming closer with each second. "I have finished the first draft of the project, would you mind taking a look at it?"

"Of course not. Actually, I'd love to see what you came with."

"I hope you´ll like it, there are some things I´m not completely certain of, but since it´s the first draft, there's still time for me to do some changes before showing anything to the client."

"Considering everything I´ve seen from you so far and how incredible your portfolio was, I´m certain whatever you came up with is great."

"Thanks."

"If you want, I can look at it now."

"Are you sure? I don't want to mess your schedule or anything."

"I always have time for my team, Timothée, no matter how fucked up my schedule is," Armie smiles, his eyes lingering on Timothée´s until the doors open. "Shall we?"

Timothée is about to answer him when Megan materializes herself in front of them, her eyes wide, her curly hair tied in a messy bun and in her hands a couple of folders. She tries to force a smile, her eyes moving from Timothée to Armie, who looks at her slightly confused.

"Is everything okay, Megan?"

"Not exactly," she bites her lip, scratches the back of her neck and sighs. "Mr. Crawford is here."

"Excuse me?"

"Mr. Crawford is here, waiting for you at the conference room and he says he won't be leaving until you talk to him."

"God, this guy," he mumbles, letting out a breath as he tries to keep himself calm. He runs his fingers through his hair, a small smile spreading across his lips as he turns to face Timothée. "I´m sorry, but I´ll have to look at your project later. Is that okay?"

"Of course, you don't have to worry about me, Mr. Hammer."

"I´m not worried," he assures Timothée. "I can already tell your project is gonna be one of our best."

"Thanks."

"When Mr. Crawford leaves, you can stop by and we´ll go through everything."

Timothée nods, bringing the drawing board closer to his chest as he watches Armie walk away with Megan ahead of him, talking non-stop. He walks to his desk, sets his things down and looks up around the office, only to see Armie stealing a quick glance at him before making it to the conference room. 

  
  


* * *

  
  


Timothée is completely immersed in his work when he hears voices echoing through the office and raises his gaze, watching as Megan leads a fifty year old man to the elevator, her face serious while he is flushed and clearly extremely irritated. He keeps his eyes on the man, paying close attention to his mannerisms, the way his knuckles are white from holding onto his briefcase so tightly. It's the first time he lays eyes on Mr. Crawford, the man who's been quite a legend around the office the past few days, and while he´s only at his eyesight for a few minutes, Timothée already dislikes the man and his overall attitude.

He leans back on his chair, reaching for his water bottle to take a few sips, his eyes on Megan, who´s now walking towards him with wide eyes. She shakes her head, throws herself down on the vacant chair by his side and leans her head back against the wall, a loud and heavy sigh escaping her shortly after.

"That man is the absolute worst," she groans. "I honestly walked in halfway through their conversation to offer some coffee and make sure Armie didn´t try to murder him."

"Is it going that bad?"

"The man´s a vulture."

"You think it's a good idea if I go there to talk to Armie or should I wait until he calms down?"

"He said you could go as soon as he left, so I don't really see a problem. Maybe talking about your project can help him calm down a little bit, forget about Mr. Crawford and his arrogance."

"Or he'll end up dumping all his frustrations in me."

Megan cocks an eyebrow, glancing at Timothée as if he was crazy.

"He would never do that."

"Right," he nods, scratching the back of his neck. "So I better go, right? Before he starts working on something and..."

"It's cute how nervous you get around him, even though Armie is probably one of the most chill bosses you´ll ever find."

"I´m here for a week, give me a break," he chuckles, pushes himself up and takes his drawing board and notebook in his hand. He smiles down at Megan, who gives him two thumbs up and makes his way over to Armie´s office. He inhales deeply, closes his eyes for a brief second and then knocks on the door, hearing his voice thundering from the inside. He opens the door slowly, poking his head inside and searching for Armie in the office, until he spots him sitting at the large couch, a book in his hand. "Am I interrupting?"

"Not at all," he smiles, pushing himself up from the couch and walking over to his desk, where he places his book down. "Please, come in."

Timothée nods, taking a step further inside and closing the door behind him. He inhales deeply, feels his heartbeat accelerate with every step he takes and wonders if it's because of the project, Armie or a combination of both. He swallows thickly, sits down on the chair across from Armie and sets his things down, flipping through a couple of the pages of his notebook, just in case he has anything to write down. 

"So, what exactly do you want to show me?"

"Everything," he quickly replies, a timid smile on the corner of his lips. "I have the first draft finished and I´m ready to move forward, but I thought it would be better to get someone else's perspective on things before doing so and you seem like the right person for it."

"I´m glad to hear that," Armie smiles, pushes himself up from the chair and circles the desk, stopping right beside him. Much to Timothée´s surprise, Armie hovers on top of him, his left hand leaned against the desk, while his right one grips onto the chair, trapping him in place. He inhales deeply, tries not to focus much on his intoxicating smell or his desire to lean in and bury his nose on the crook of his neck.

Fighting off every part of him that wishes to reach out and just hold him, Timothée lays out all the things he has worked on throughout the week, from the design of the logo and website, to the primary advertising campaign. He holds his breath, hands turning into fists as he gently starts to bounce his left leg, desperately waiting for Armie to say something. He can feel his hot breathing against his face, can hear him mumbling something, but he's so tense he can barely make it out what he is saying.

"I´d work on this logo a little bit more," Armie finally says and in a swift movement he is leaned against the desk, his eyes down to Timothée. "It's good, but I think you can still make it easier to read and identify, from a distance and from up close."

"Yeah, I wasn't really sure about it either."

"But what I like the most about this, is the fact you went for white and used blue and red only on the details," he smiles and Timothée bites his lip. "Most people would go straight for the typical french aesthetic, so I like that you´re trying to diverge from what everyone is doing."

"Just because it's a french school, doesn't mean it has to have french flags all around, right?"

"True," he says between chuckles. "You know, my first project here was also for a school."

"I know," he quickly replies, earning a confused look from Armie. "Megan told me we could log into the archives and have access to every single project ever made by the company, so while I was researching for the project, I did it and yours was one of the first ones I saw."

Armie nods, his eyes lingering on his for a moment before he clears his throat and nods, pushing himself off of the desk. "I´m glad to hear you´re using every resource we have to offer."

"I´d be crazy not to."

"Anyway, I think you´re going in the right direction even if you can still improve it. And judging by all the notes you have around that board, I see you still have a lot of ideas you can use."

"Yeah, sorry," he scratches his neck, a light pink coming to his cheeks.

"For making notes? You don't have to apologize, I do the same thing, it's the best way to keep track of everything we're doing."

"Yes, it is," Timothée smiles, glad him and Armie are able to have a nice conversation without things getting too awkward. "I should probably go now, let you go back to your work."

"Don´t worry, it was a pleasant break."

Timothée nods, pushes himself up and collects his things, his eyes glancing down at Armie´s desk, one particular item catching his attention. Absent-mindedly, he reaches out for it, a smile spreading across his lips as he sees the old cover, carefully sewed on the sides.

"The Posthumous Memoirs of Bras Cubas," Armie says, catching his attention. "Is one of my favorite books."

"Mine too," he replies, his voice almost like a whisper. "My dad was really into it and gave his copy to me when I was ten and I´ve been reading at least once a year ever since. I´ve never seen this cover before though, it's beautiful." 

"First edition," he explains. "My mom gave it to me on my fourteenth birthday, I have it with me almost all the time."

"Light read," Timothée jokes and they both laugh. He sighs, a smile on his face as he brings the papers to his chest. "I really should go now, but thank you for going through the project."

"I'm at your disposal."

"Thank you," he says one more time before rushing to the door. He glances over his shoulder at Armie one last time, closes the door and walks to his desk, throwing himself into the seat while trying his best to contain the smile that wants to take him over.

  
  


* * *

  
  


The doors open to reveal Armie leaned against the wall, a pile of folders on his arm and a tired expression on his face. He steps out of the elevator, kicking his shoes to the side and making his way to the kitchen almost immediately, the folders resting on the counter while he grabs himself a glass of water. He can feel his phone vibrating in his pocket, message after message being delivered, but he chooses to ignore them all, perfectly aware that they all come from his father, who must have already gotten a call from Mr. Crawford to inform him of the latest events. 

He leaves the glass on the sink, takes the folders with him and puts them all down on the coffee table as he takes a seat on the couch, quickly going through each one of them to make sure he has everything he needs. As he realizes there are at least two files missing, Armie groans; it's almost as if there is always something being done to make sure he is restless and stressed lately, which is starting to piss him off. Trying not to let this get the best of him, Armie leans against the couch, eyes closed as he inhales deeply, trying to calm himself down. 

Once he finally manages to unwind a little bit, he reaches back for his phone and scrolls through his contact list in search of Megan´s number, which not surprisingly it´s one of the very last he has texted. He opens their conversation, presses the button to the voice message and sighs, bringing the phone closer to him.

"Hey Megan, I´m sorry to bother you, but I remember you said you were staying at the company until late to work on some things. And since you´re there, I really need to ask you a favor. I forgot some papers there and I really need them here tonight, so I can start working on them tomorrow morning. Could you, please, bring them up here? I promise I'll reward you somehow, maybe get you a month worth of coffee at Greg´s, or pay you a nice and fancy dinner, whichever you choose," he sighs. "Let me know and I´ll tell the lobby that you can come straight in."

He tosses the phone to the couch, pushes himself up and drags himself to the bedroom, his clothes off before he even makes it to the bathroom. He steps under the shower, the warm water cascading down his naked body and helping untie all the knots in his muscles, which even after a few seconds already seem a lot better than before. He closes his eyes, fingers running through his damp hair as he sighs, a little smile on the corner of his lips as he remembers the days where he could simply get away from everything, jump into the family´s private jet -often without his father's permission- and fly over to Mykonos for the weekend. Sadly, those days seemed to be long behind him. 

* * *

  
  
  


Timothée yawns, reaches for his mug of coffee and groans as he realizes it's completely empty, not even a drop left to keep him awake. He sighs, reaches for his phone and first checks the time, slightly shocked to realize it's already eight, then goes through his notifications, smiling at the photos his friends sent through their group chat, both of them enjoying drinks with Anna by their side. 

He leans back on the chair, thinking of something witty to reply to them, but gets distracted as he glances around the office and sees Megan collecting her belongings, a tired look on her face. He can only imagine he looks pretty much the same, possibly even worse considering he also had to endure long hours of class. As she makes her way over to him, the sound of her heels echoing through the empty office, he smiles, pulling his feet up on the desk.

"Are you leaving me alone?"

"You should go too," she says, leaning her hip against the desk. "Building closes at nine, so you have to be careful not to get locked in."

Timothée chuckles, nodding his head. "I´ll go to the bathroom, collect my things and leave, no need to worry about me."

"Any chance you´re getting a few drinks and relaxing after this?"

"Nope," he exaggerates his enunciation and pouts, earning a giggle from his new friend. "Like every single night this week, I'll be heading straight to my apartment, doing some work and then going to bed."

"Luckily for us, tomorrow is Saturday."

"Which I plan to spend inside my apartment, working on all the school projects I got piled up."

"Sounds like fun," she mocks, a little smile on her lips. As Timothée shrugs, she leans in and plants a kiss on his cheek. "Good night, Green Eyes and don't forget to leave before the building closes."

"Good night," he yawns again, pushes himself up and starts collecting his things, stuffing it all inside his backpack and placing his drawing board back in its case. He glances up suddenly, frowning as he realizes Megan is staring at him with an eyebrow arched and a little questioning smile. "What?"

"You live near Columbia, right?"

"Yeah, why?"

"Would you do me a big favor?"

  
  


* * *

  
  


Armie sits on the floor, legs crossed and back against the couch as he types something on his computer, his eyes constantly glancing at a paper beside it. He sighs, rolls his shoulders and closes his eyes, rubbing them for a second before he pushes himself up, slowly making his way over to the kitchen. He grabs a glass, reaches for one of the bottles on the shelf and pours himself a good dose of Scotch. 

He takes a few sips, the liquid burning down his throat, but relaxing nonetheless. He smiles at himself, waving the glass from side to side, his eyes attentive to the liquid and the little waves it forms. He turns around, leans against the counter, eyes closed as he allows the sounds of the still busy street to come in and fill the air. A sound catches his attention though, and he notices the elevator is on its way up, probably with Megan who went out of her way to bring him the files.

He finishes his drink, sets the glass down and turns on his heels just as the elevator doors open. His eyes widen when he sees Timothée is the one standing there, but his expression softens as he notices that he, much like every other guest he had in his home, stares at the place in almost complete disbelief. His green eyes are wide, his lips slightly parted, an awe expression as he steps further into the apartment and takes in his surroundings.

Armie doesn't seem to be able to take his eyes off of him, studying his every move, finding humor in the way he looks around the penthouse as if it was something out of this world. In his defense, Armie knows not everyone has the pleasure and opportunity to ever be in a place like this, let alone live in one. He bypasses the counter, a small smile on the corner of his lips as he stands face to face with Timothée.

"What are you doing here?"

"Oh yeah," Timothée blurts out, getting out of his trance with a breathy chuckle. "Megan said you forgot something at the office and asked if I could come and give it to you."

"She could have just said no," Armie mumbles, fingers running through his hair in an almost failed attempt to push some of the rogue strands back. "I'm sorry for putting you through all this trouble, Timothée."

"Oh no, I'm glad to be of help."

"That's nice of you, but it's Friday night, you already worked until late and I'm sure you had better things to do other than come all the way here to give me the files."

"My building is not that far away," he shrugs. "Megan knew this was on my way and asked if I could help. You really don't have to worry about me, it's all good."

"Thank you," Armie smiles, a lump on his throat as Timothée takes a few steps closer and hands him the thick file, which he holds it against his chest. "Can I get you anything?"

"Water is fine, thank you."

"Right," he rushes around the counter, grabs a clean glass at the strainer and pours some water, handing it to Timothée.

He silently observes him while he drinks, the way his curls are slightly more messy than they were earlier that day, how his ripped jeans are baggier than what he is used to seeing him in, the amount of bracelets and necklaces he uses, which adds up to his style and says quite a lot about his personality. But most importantly, Armie watches the way his Adam's Apple moves when he swallows, the shape of his neck and freckles and moles he has on it. 

"Thank you," Timothée smiles, hands the glass back and smacks his lips together, gently swaying from one side to the other. "I should probably go."

"Want me to drive you home?", the question comes out in a blurt, surprising even Armie himself.

"What?"

"It just seems unfair for you to walk home after having to take a detour here just to hand me a goddamn file."

"My building is only a few blocks away, I can walk, there's no problem."

"But it's Friday night, you had a whole day of work and classes. You're probably tired and I hate the fact I caused you trouble."

"It wasn't any trouble," he shakes his head, his eyes slightly widen, his lips twitching.

"Please, it would make me feel better," Armie explains, rushing over to the living room to grab his coat and keys. "Not to mention the fact I could use a break from all this work."

He gestures to the elevator and leads Timothée to it, typing in the code and watching as the doors slowly close on them. Leaning against the wall, with his arms crossed and the keys clinking away, Armie suddenly feels like he's in one of those Hollywood movies, where the main characters find themselves trapped somewhere and have to either deal with their differences or end up succumbing to their inner desires. 

And much to his despair, Armie is fully aware they could easily fall back into both of these categories.


	13. You Oughta Know

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Late night confessions

They remain in silence throughout the whole thing, Armie´s arms crossed above his chest and Timothée leaned against the opposing wall, his eyes stuck to the led display that indicates which floor they are on. Once the letter  _ G _ appears, the doors open and Armie is the first to step out, the lights of the garage turning on one by one as he leads Timothée to his car. 

A security guard comes to view and nods at Armie´s direction, a serious expression on his face as he stands in place, quietly observing the room, making sure all the expensive cars and motorcycles parked there are safe and sound. In a building like this, the only thing the residents crave more than the luxury is the security. 

Glancing back at Timothée, Armie swiftly notices how entranced by his surroundings he seems to be, his eyes beaming with a childlike wonder. He can´t help but smile, suddenly aware that even the smallest of things are slightly more amusing when it comes from him. He stops by his Range Rover, unlocks it and leans against it, waiting until Timothée comes back to reality. Their eyes meet for a brief moment, a timid smile spreading across Timothée´s lips as Armie gestures for him to get in.

"I don't think I've ever seen so many expensive cars in only one place," he admits while putting on his seatbelt. "It's kind of crazy, to be honest."

"Oh, they are all mine."

Timothée's eyes go wide and Armie can't help but laugh, shaking his head.

"I'm kidding, this is my only car. I do have a motorcycle though, but that's enough for me."

"Meanwhile my mom wouldn't even allow me near motorcycles," he mumbles, chuckling as Armie looks at him slightly confused. "She always thought they were dangerous."

"Right," Armie nods, slightly more at ease, glad they are still able to find moments like this, where they can share a conversation without being awkward. "So, what's your address?"

"Claremont Avenue, 766."

"Alright then," Armie starts the car and quickly maneuvers around the garage, driving off of the building and down the street. He keeps his eyes focused on the road, silence taking them over once more, only this time slightly more comforting. It's a beautiful night, the moon is full and high in the sky, there's a cool breeze and all the bars are open, people crowding the sidewalks, music playing in every corner. He glances at Timothée, who's sitting quietly, eyes to the window and backpack on his lap. 

Obviously it doesn't take long for Armie to find himself parking in front of Timothée's building, his eyes glancing around the street. It's a nice neighborhood, probably filled with college kids and people who work for the university. He remembers walking through those streets when he first visited Columbia, when he once thought of enrolling there. In the end he chose Cornell, but the neighborhood had always been an attractive one.

"Thank you," Timothée eventually says, glancing over at Armie, a small smile on his lips.

"It was my pleasure."

Timothée nods, goes to open the door, but stops himself. He bites his lip, a frown forming on his face and Armie notices he wants to say something, but seems to be trying to stop himself from doing so. 

"Is everything okay?"

"I know we haven't talked about what happened between us," he finally says and Armie swallows thickly, his hands holding tighter onto the steering wheel. He knew this moment would come, that they would have to eventually face the elephant in the room, but he isn't sure he is ready to do this just yet. "But I just wanted to say that I appreciate the fact you didn't let it come in between my hiring. For a moment I thought you could try to sabotage me in any way and..."

"It did cross my mind," Armie cuts him off, licking his lip as he turns to face Timothée, who glances at him with a hint of sadness in his eyes.

"Oh."

"Only for a brief moment though," he quickly says, reaching up for Timothée's arm, but retrieving his hand almost immediately after. "Then I realized how wrong it was of me to even think of such a thing. Neither one of us knew who the other was, it wasn't fair of me to harm you in any way or form, to blame you for something that you´re not guilty of."

Timothée doesn't reply, he simply stares back at Armie, lets out a heavy sigh and nods slowly. 

"I also wanted you to know I'm sorry if this whole situation has caused you any discomfort at the company. I wish things had happened differently, that I had talked to you about it before, but it all came down like an avalanche and I didn't really know how to react to the whole thing."

Timothée nods, his eyes locked on Armie's. "You don't have to apologize for anything, I understand how difficult this situation must have been for you."

"I want you to know that I don't regret hiring you, Timothée. I can see your potential, the love you have for what you do and I might have been unsure at the start, but hiring you was the right thing to do."

"Thank you."

"Timothée," Armie bites his lip, his eyes taking in Timothée´s micro expressions, trying to understand what is going on in his head at the moment. He swallows thickly, finds himself aching to reach out and touch him, can almost feel the pull between them, which seems to force them closer. He then sighs, shakes his head and sits back straight, trying with all his might to put on a smile. "I'll see you on Monday."

"Right," Timothée nods, opening the car door. "See you on Monday, Mr. Hammer. Good night."

"Good night", his words come almost in a whisper, his eyes on Timothée until he disappears into his building. Biting his lip, Armie punches the steering wheel, frustration consuming him. The night could have ended differently if only he was willing to take a risk.

* * *

  
  
  


Timothée leans his elbows on the counter, his eyes distant as he bites into a chocolate cookie, the coffee on his mug turning cold. He had trouble sleeping, spent most of his night rolling in bed, thinking of how it felt to step into Armie´s incredible home, how beautiful and well-thought everything was, a house that reflected how tasteful he was. He also simply couldn't take away the image of Armie stepping in front of him, the moonlight forming a halo around him as he stood there in his black sweatpants and grey sweater.

Above it all, it was the way Armie gazed upon him with those deep blue eyes that truly haunted Timothée. He felt shivers whenever he stopped to think about the moment they had on his car, how close they were, his hot breath on his skin and the thousand different thoughts that came into his head as he watched him inch closer. For a brief moment, Timothée honestly thought Armie was about to kiss him, slide his fingers through his curls and pull him closer, savoring the taste of his lips as he did the night they met. But when all Armie did was say goodbye, Timothée could almost hear his heart shattering, frustration sweeping all over him. 

With a sigh, Timothée hops off the stool, taking his plate and mug along with him. He rinses it quickly, places them on the drainer and then takes his drawing board and pencils from the living room before walking to the balcony, the cool breeze quite soothing. He sits down, eyes wandering around the city, the noises that could easily distract others, working as inspiration for Timothée, who takes in all of his surroundings and uses it to his advantage.

He checks his notes, most of them redone after he talked to Armie and starts sketching a new version of the logo he had created previously. He smiles down at his drawing, reaches for one of the colored pencils and adds a bit of shadow and color to things, watching it all come to life. He bites his lip as he hits a bit of trouble on the layout, leans back against the chair and tries to think of a way he can surpass the problem. Before he can do it though, his phone starts vibrating on top of the table and distracts him from his work.

"Hello?"

"Hey there, little brother."

"Hey, it´s been a while."

"Yeah, I just hope this time around you don't have a gaudy story about the people you´ve been sleeping with."

"For that to happen, I´d have to find someone to sleep with first."

"Dry spell, are we?"

"Let's just say after the last hook up I had, it might be a good idea to lay low for a while."

"You´re not wrong," she quickly replies, a loud sigh escaping her afterwards. "So, tell me, how are things going between you and the boss?"

"Weird," he admits, bringing his legs up. "His secretary asked me to stop by his place yesterday night and deliver some files he had forgotten at the office."

"And you agreed?"

"Yes, I agreed," he says matter of factly, as if he would ever say no to helping out his boss, even if the boss in question was someone he has slept with and he knew the encounter could be extremely embarrassing. "And then he offered to drive me home."

"Oh man, I sense some angst coming up."

"We talked about what happened between us and the situation we are in, which was good, I think that was quite necessary for the both of us."

"But?"

"But there was also a moment, even if brief where it seemed like he was going to kiss me and I don't know what that is gonna do to our relationship from now on."

"I told you things could get even weirder, didn´t I?"

"Yes, you did, but what on earth do you want me to do? I´m not gonna give up on the job because of what happened, I have to suck it up and learn how to live with whatever is going on."

There´s a pause, a sigh and then a soft chuckle, which confuses Timothée a little.

"I´m really proud of the man you´ve become, little brother. Most people in your position would handle things way different."

"You know what´s the best part in all of this? You all suddenly think I´m a very grounded and collected person, when in reality my head is constantly spinning and I have no idea what to do with myself."

Pauline laughs. "Silver linings, am I right?"

"Yeah, silver linings," he scoffs. "Anyway, how are things going over there?"

* * *

  
  
  


Armie walks down the long hallway towards the back door, his eyes wandering around the old house, memories flooding his head with each step he takes. He stops by the small patio, arms crossed as he watches the pool with its crystal clear water, the deckchairs and umbrellas, the barbecue and the big wooden table where they will sit down on festive occasions, have a meal and talk.

Glancing around he spots Anna lounging by one of the chairs in her biquini, with sunglasses and a book in her hands. He shakes his head at the scene, knowing very few people would spend a Saturday morning in mid September sunbathing, but Anna has always been one of a kind.

He kicks off his shoes, rolls up the sleeves of his sweater and steps to the grass, smiling as he feels it in between his toes and under his feet. He stops just by the chair his sister is sitting at, glancing down at her through his sunglasses. Once she finally sets her book down and looks up at him, he cocks an eyebrow, unable to control a laugh from escaping him.

"You do know we´re in mid September, right?"

"Yes, and I am taking full advantage of this beautiful and rather warm day to get myself a bit tanned. The weather forecast says there's bad weather coming and in this city it means shitty days for weeks on end, maybe even months, so please, don´t kill my vibe."

Armie laughs, hands in his pockets as he stares ahead of him, suddenly realizing his sister might actually be the reasonable one in this scenario. It´s a beautiful Saturday morning and after the long hours of work he had the previous night, he could use a good few minutes of peace. He shrugs, fixes his sunglasses, sits down on the deckchair beside his sister´s and closes his eyes, inhaling deeply as he allows his body and mind to relax.

"What are you doing here so early anyway?"

"After days ignoring dad´s texts and calls, I thought it was only fair I came here and see if he wants to talk about this whole thing with Mr. Crawford," he explains. "That is if he's willing to talk to me, of course. I'm pretty sure he's mad as hell."

Anna scoffs, glancing at Armie over her sunglasses. "You´re the favorite son, Armie, no matter what you do, dad never gets mad at you."

"The favorite one, right," he chuckles while shaking his head. "The favorite one also happens to run the business he loves so much and makes decisions he doesn't always agree with, which is why we´re in this situation."

"Armie, if there's one thing I know for sure, is that dad absolutely loves how hardworking you are. He left you in charge of the family business for a reason, so don't overthink it, alright? Mr. Crawford might be a lifelong associate, but you are his son and nothing´s thicker than blood."

"I don´t know," he sighs, fixing himself in the chair. "Last time we talked, he wanted me to apologize to Mr. Crawford for the things I said and after the conversation I had with the man yesterday, which I am sure he already made sure to tell dad, he´s now gonna be even more keen on it."

"And you obviously have no intention in doing so."

"Nope."

"Figured," she nods, a little smile creeping on her lips as she nudges Armie with her book. "Well, I doubt you´ll be in any sort of trouble, but just in case, can I be in the room when you have this conversation?"

Armie rolls his eyes, nudging Anna with his foot as she laughs, shrugging her shoulders. He sighs, glances over to the side as he hears footsteps and smiles wide as Beth walks towards them, a tray in her hands.

"Peter told me you were here," Beth explains, setting the tray down on the table in between him and Anna. "So I brought some lemonade and chips."

"Thanks, Beth."

"Thank you, Beth," Armie smiles, kisses her hand and gives her a quick wink, while Anna watches the whole thing with an amused expression. "I hope you don´t mind, but I'm staying for lunch, I miss your delicious food."

"I´m always glad to have you around, Armz, you know that."

"Of course he does," Anna rolls her eyes. "He just likes to hear people say how much they like him."

"Shut up."

"You two call me if you need anything."

"Thanks, Beth," they both say in unison.

Armie waits for her to walk back inside the house, turns to his side and pours two glasses of lemonade, handing one to Anna and taking a sip of his own. He sighs, a smile on his lips as he leans back on the chair and fixes his glasses.

"So," Armie clears his throat. "How's it going with your new boyfriend?"

"Great," she says and Armie instantly cocks an eyebrow. While he could tell she was honestly enthusiastic about Jackson, this is the first time she had not complained about Armie calling him her boyfriend. "Jackson is really kind, funny and intelligent. We went out yesterday with Chloe and I had so much fun, you really should have joined. And before you say anything, Timothée wasn't even there, so it wouldn't have been a problem."

"I know he wasn't there."

"How?"

"Because he was with me."

"Excuse me?," she spits some of the lemonade in her mouth, sits up straight and takes her sunglasses, glaring at Armie. "When were you planning on telling me this?"

"Nothing happened, woman, chill out."

"Then what exactly do you mean by  _ he was with me _ ?"

"I forgot a file back at the office and since Megan knew his building wasn't that far away from mine, she asked him to deliver it."

"So he was at the penthouse, late at night?"

"Yep," he nods. "Then I had the brilliant idea of driving him home."

"Why do I feel there's a juicy end to this whole thing?"

"There isn't," he shakes his head. "But we did acknowledge what happened between us and how complicated it has been for both of us. I don't know how awkward it might be next time we see each other, but I think we needed that moment."

Anna frowns, sitting cross legged on the chair. "There´s something else there you´re not telling me, brother."

"For a moment I thought of kissing him, but I stopped myself, obviously."

"Maybe you shouldn't have," she sighs. "Maybe the right path here is not the one you think you should take, but the one that challenges you, alright?"

"Being in love is turning you into a mellow."

"Excuse me? Who said anything about being in love?"

"Oh please, you´re falling for this Jackson guy and everyone can see it."

"Stop trying to change the subject, Armand."

Armie chuckles, shaking his head. Anastasia Grace Hammer is falling in love, that's something I thought I´d never see."

"Oh, shut up," she tosses the book at him, hearing him laugh. "I could say the very same about you, but you don't see me mocking you, do you?"

"You´ve been mocking me ever since I told you what happened with me and Timothée."

"What happened with you and Timothée?"

Both Armie and Anna tense up, their eyes turning to the door, where their father and Margareth are standing, a couple of bags on their hands.

"Hey, dad."

* * *

  
  


After a couple of hours, Timothée moved back inside the apartment, sitting on the floor by the coffee table so he could continue working. His drawing board was set right in front of him, while half a dozen papers lied around, each one of them filled with different sketches, some in black and white, others already colored. Despite the hard work, Timothée can´t help but smile, seeing his first project finally coming to life, his ideas now translated to paper and eventually to actual billboards, websites and magazines.

He couldn't be happier about the opportunity he gained from Armie and he knew there were not enough words he could use to describe how thankful he really was. He sighs, stretches out his arms and reaches for his glass of Coke, taking a few sips of it before focusing his attention on the laptop, which is open on the company's website. He scrolls through some pages, accesses the employee´s room and goes through the archives once again, stopping as he finds another one of Armie´s old projects, this one for a restaurant in SoHo. 

Oddly enough, he can see some similarities between their work and wonders if this is one of the reasons why Armie immediately thought of him for the Notre Dame project; he also can´t help but wonder how it would be to sit side by side with Armie and work on something of their own. But he knows that idea is a little far fetched, there is absolutely no way he would ever reach that level; judging by what Megan said, Armie only ever worked on extremely high profile projects, most of the time when people wanted him involved and he highly doubted that anyone who wanted Armie Hammer, heir and CEO, working on their project would like someone like him tagging along.

"Focus, Timothée," he mumbles to himself while getting up from the floor. He paces around the living room for a moment, walks over to the balcony and takes a look outside, smiling as he notices the Sun is still high up in the sky and the streets are crowded, most people probably enjoying the oddly warm and pretty day in the city. He bites his lip, turns on his heels and rushes to the bedroom, where he puts on his shoes, grabs his wallet and light jacket.

While he knows there is still quite a lot of work to be done, Timothée is also aware he can´t be stuck inside the apartment the entire weekend, staring at moodboards, color pallets and sketches for logos and websites. He needs some fresh air, get his thoughts in order and maybe even some inspiration from the real world; and yes, he manages to get some of that from his balcony, just like he did earlier, but nothing truly compares to being out in the open.

He takes his phone on his way to the door, closes it behind it and quickly runs down the five flights of stairs, greeting a couple that has recently moved into the building on the way down. He stops by the small garden by the building's entrance, taking his time to appreciate the flowers and then steps out. He looks around the street, decides on which way to go and eventually chooses left, his hands in his pockets as he glances around, paying close attention to everything that happens around him.

With work and classes, it's become a little more difficult for Timothée to truly appreciate the city as he used to do, stop by his favorite bakery in the middle of the afternoon was now almost an impossible task. Ironically, now that he has finally gotten the job of his dreams, he misses the time he had all the time in the world to do whatever the hell he wanted. He chuckles, shakes his head at how silly the thought is and then grabs his phone in his back pocket, checking the time before he turns a corner and gets into the subway station.

He waits by the wall, scrolling through his social media, adding silly comments to his sister´s photos, sending dms to his parents and even posting a photo he took earlier in the day, the Sun in the distant while his table appeared just a little bit, a mess of papers and coloring pencils. He glances up as he hears the train, pushes himself off of the wall and quickly hops in, keeping himself close to the doors as his ride won't take too long.

Two stops later, Timothée steps out and swiftly finds a way out of the station and back to the street. He strolls for a couple of blocks, notices some familiar places he hasn't been in a while and mostly has forgotten about it, then stops as he finally reaches his destination. He looks through the showcase, smiles at all the books that are lined up there, some open to show the customer the pages layout. He opens the door, steps to the side as a woman walks out with a kid trailing behind and chuckles as the kid cheerfully flips through the pages of her book, clearly happy with her new purchase.

"Look who it is," Chloe´s voice echoes through the store, a smile on her face as she leans her elbows on the counter, her chin resting against her palm. "I thought you had forgotten the way here."

"How could I ever?," he smirks, fingers tracing the books on the shelf closest to him, his eyes wandering through the titles. "I missed this place, I simply couldn't find the time to stop by."

"Of course, now you´re a man with a job. And being the boss's favorite, you gotta set a good example to your fellow colleagues."

"You guys really need to stop with this whole boss's favorite thing," he rolls his eyes, leaning against the counter too, his face only a few inches away from Chloe´s. "How things going around here?"

"Quite chill, which is normal whenever we open on Saturdays."

"Don't you get bored?"

"Sometimes, but the good thing about working on a bookstore, is that if you get bored, you can just look around and find the company that best suits you."

Timothée chuckles, but nods his head anyway.

"You're totally right."

"So, what are the plans for the weekend?"

"Get as much work done as possible? I have about five projects I need to work on and that doesn't even include the Notre Dame one."

"How's that going, by the way? You mentioned something about showing Armie the first draft of it."

"I did and he liked it, although he suggested a couple of changes."

"Sorry."

"No no, the changes he suggested are actually gonna make the whole thing even better."

"Well, he's the CEO, he must know what he is doing, right?"

"He does," he turns around, leaning his back against the counter and takes another look around the store, a couple books catching his attention. He walks over to the table displayed by the door, takes a book in his hand and flips through a couple of pages, a curious look in his face.

"It´s a new graphic design book that arrived yesterday, I figured you'd like it."

"Why didn't you tell me about it?"

"I was going to," she rolls her eyes. "Do you want me to get you one? There's not many."

"Please," he says, looking back at her with puppy eyes. "It looks really interesting and could help me gain inspiration on the days I´m stuck."

"Deal, I´ll add to your tab."

"Which must be reaching astronomical numbers by now, huh?"

"Not really," she shrugs. "Besides, now you´re a working man, you can pay it."

"And I will, because my first paycheck comes in about a week."

"Is it a good one?"

"Considering I was jobless for over six months, any paycheck would be incredible, but yeah, they actually do pay quite well."

"Sometimes people just get the best of both worlds, huh? A hot boss, who pays it well, I never had that much luck in my life."

Timothée chuckles, placing the book back in its place before he makes his way over to the counter again. "So, I do plan on spending the weekend at home, but that doesn't mean you guys can´t stop by later tonight. Maybe we could order a pizza and watch some movies?"

"Sounds good to me."

"I´ll text Jackson and see if he wants to join us."

"That´s if he's not too busy sucking faces with his girlfriend."

"Oh right, you guys went out together yesterday night. How was it?"

"They are the cutest and yet most disgusting couple ever," she says quite seriously, which makes Timothée burst out laughing. "No, seriously, they wouldn't..."

  
  


* * *

  
  


The dining table has gone silent, the only sound coming from the forks and knives, which slide down the plates and cut through their steak. Armie is sitting beside his sister, his head down for most of the time, his finger gently tracing the brink of his wine glass. His conversation with his dad wasn't as bad as he had expected and he seemed to have understood Armie's side of the story, understood that all he was trying to do was keep their family from falling into a trap.

Luckily for him, before his father could dive into the subject of what he had heard back at the pool, Margareth barged through the door and announced lunch was ready. He sighed in relief, followed his dad out of the office and sat quietly on the table, nibbling on his food while Anna tried desperately to get something out of him. As the minutes passed though, the silence had gotten slightly uncomfortable and right now he would do anything to have someone say something, anything that could make them feel like the family they have always been.

He glances up as Anna nudges him, points to the plate of roasted potatoes and smiles. He nods, hands it over to her and then takes a sip of his wine, eyes falling on his father, who watches him closely. He's serious, his jaw clenched and his hand gripping tightly onto his fork, a sight Armie had seen many times during his wilder years, when his dad had found out something about him and was just waiting for the right moment to lecture him about it.

"So, Armie," Margareth finally says, which makes Armie sigh in relief. "Have you managed to get yourself some rest? I know you´ve been working quite a lot the last couple of weeks."

"A few moments here and there," he admits, shrugging his shoulders. "Things have been a bit chaotic, but I've been able to manage it."

"But you're getting enough sleep, right? And eating properly, because no matter how important the job is for you, there comes a time you need to take a break."

Armie smiles, always surprised to see just how much Margareth cares about him. Ever since they were first introduced, she always took her time to talk to him, try to understand him and let him know she wasn't trying to replace his mother in any way. She simply wanted the best for the family and she made his father happy.

"You don't have to worry about me, Margareth. Work has been crazy, there are nights I work until one or two in the morning, but I've been taking care of myself."

"Good, I don't want anything bad happening to you."

Armie nods, takes her hand and plants a kiss on her palm, winking as she chuckles, shaking her head. He turns back to his father, who despite the whole conversation they just had remained silent and completely motionless.

"You okay, dad?"

"I'm great, simply wondering what exactly it is that you're hiding from me," he explains, shrugging his shoulders. "What happened between you and Timothée?"

Armie bites his lip, swallows dryly and tries his very best to come up with an excuse to what his father heard. He knows he didn't really get much of the conversation, only the very end and he could come up with anything fitting that he wouldn't know better. Still, it feels odd to be in this position, about to lie to his father when that's something he rarely did. Right or wrong, Armie had always been honest.

"Armie and Timothée didn't really get along," Anna says all of a sudden, attracting everyone's eyes. "What you heard, dad, was Armie talking about how the past week has been a bit complicated, because they have been at odds for most of the time and he even questioned if giving Timothée a project this early was actually a good idea."

Armie tries his best to control his smile, his eyes locked on his sister, who blurts it all out as if she had rehearsed for weeks.

"But since you already think he didn't want to hire him in the first place and only did it because of you, he was a bit scared of talking about it. He thought you could think he was targeting Timothée somehow, when it's not the case, they are simply having a hard time getting used to one another."

"Is that it?," Douglas asks, turning to Armie, who simply nods. "Son, I know how professional you are, I would never think you're deliberately targeting someone in our team. If you and Timothée are having a hard time working together, that's okay, we don't get along with everyone right away, with some people it takes time."

"I know," Armie practically whispers. "I should have just told you the truth."

"You know you can always count on me."

"I know and I promise you I'm doing my best to make sure my relationship with Timothée gets better," he smiles, knowing that part isn't exactly a lie. He truly wants to make sure his relationship with Timothée, at least professionally wise, is the best one possible. "You don't have to worry about this, okay? Like you said yourself, maybe we just need some time."

"Good, I'm glad we cleared that out," Douglas smiles. "And since you guys mentioned the project, how is it going? Have you seen anything?"

"Yes, he showed me a rough sketching yesterday and I think it's going to be great," he quickly replies. "Like Anna said, I questioned my own decision at some point, but he is proving me wrong."

"That's great to hear," Douglas smiles. "I can´t wait to see what he comes up with."

"I´ll talk to him, see if there's anything we can show you," Armie smiles, takes a sip of his wine and glances over at Anna, who smirks at him. He bites his lip, bumps his fist with hers under the table and once his father glances over to Margareth, he mouths her a  _ thank you _ .

* * *

  
  
  


Armie knocks on the door and leans against the threshold, arms crossed as he waits for a reply. When he eventually hears Anna´s voice, he opens the door, pokes his head inside and smiles at her, who´s sitting on her bed, headphones on and a book in her lap. She waves him in and he swiftly walks in, closing the door behind him before making his way around the bedroom, stopping by the desk where her laptop is set, beside it a frame with a photo of when they were kids, his father and his mother standing behind them as they sat on the grass, wide smiles on their faces.

He smiles, takes the frame in his hand and gently traces it, feeling a lump on his throat as he thinks back to the time where his mother was around, her laugh echoing through the house, always contagious and fun. He sighs, sets the frame down and turns around, nearly throwing himself down on the bed by his sister, his arm immediately wrapped around her shoulder.

"I just came to say goodbye."

"You´re leaving already?," she asks, frowning. "Why don't you stay here for the day?"

"There´s some work I want to get done."

"You seriously need to take a break, Armie."

"That's exactly why I´m going home," he explains, hand gently stroking her arm. "I want to get as much work done as possible, so that maybe tonight you and I could go out and have a few drinks."

"Seriously?"

"See it as my way to thank you for what you did at the lunch table."

"Oh, so you´re paying."

He chuckles, rolling his eyes.

"Not that you need anyone to pay anything for you, but sure, I'll pay for the drinks tonight."

"Then I'm definitely going," she laughs, but then sits up straight, her hand reaching out for Armie´s, which she squeezes gently. "Hey, I just want you to know that I´ll always be here for you, alright? I might make some jokes and tease you a little bit, but I love you and I´ll always have your back, big brother."

"I know and I thank you for that."

Anna smiles, leans in to place a kiss on his cheek and then leans back against the bedpost, her arm linked with Armie´s. "So, where exactly are we going to?"

"You choose."

"There´s a new place in Brooklyn people said it´s quite fun, maybe we could check it out."

"Fine by me," he smiles down at her. "I'll pick you up at eight?"

"Sounds good."

Armie plants a kiss on her temple, then pushes himself up from the bed and walks to the door, stopping it just as his hand reaches the handle. He turns to look at Anna over his shoulder, a little cheeky grin on his face as she frowns, slightly confused.

"What?"

"Please, try not to be late."

"Don't worry, I'll start getting dressed about two hours earlier."

"Make that three and maybe you'll be on time," as she throws a pillow in his direction, Armie slides to the side, watching as it hits the door and falls to the ground. "Your aim was always shitty."

"You literally moved out of the way," she protests as Armie scoffs, shaking his head. "Fuck you!"

"Love you too, sis."

"Idiot."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes, the title is a shoutout to my own fic I never (and I feel sorry for it til this day) got to finish. 😉


	14. Pay Attention To The Signs

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A friendship to look forward to

As the campus becomes crowded, students and professors wandering from one side to the other, the vendors rushing to deliver enough coffee for everyone, the Sun hides behind the clouds and a cool breeze hits. Sitting on the steps to the library, Timothée has his sketchbook open as he shows Chloe a couple of the ideas he had for the Notre Dame project, a wide smile on his face as he explains the concept he created for the school and how excited he is to see something he did leave the paper and be introduced to the world.

As he flips to the last page of sketches, he hears his name being called and glances up, noticing one of his professors making his way over to him. He closes the sketchbook and hands it to Chloe before getting up, fixing his shirt as he puts on a smile on his face. Professor Lopez has always been one of his favorites, someone who has a unique vision and always takes time to try and understand what his students are trying to convey through their work.

"Good morning, Mr. Lopez."

"Good morning, Timothée," he nods, flipping through a couple papers inside a folder. "I got your email about the project, how you were struggling with some of the details of it and thought this could help you.”

Timothée nods, taking the sheet of paper in his hands, his eyes quickly scanning through the notes there.

"These are books and websites you could look into for source material, I am sure you will find something that best suits your case here."

"Thank you, Mr. Lopez."

"I know how hardworking you are and you don't always ask for help either, so I when you do, is my obligation to do my best to make sure I assist you in the best way possible."

"You´re an angel, Mr. Lopez. This is gonna help me a lot, specially now that my time is limited."

"Oh yeah, I´ve heard you got yourself a job, right?"

"Yes, I was hired at Hammer Design & Marketing."

"Timothée, that's incredible. The Hammers have been working on the field for decades and their agency is on the top ten of the country, you hold onto that job as tight as you can and make sure you learn everything you can with them."

"I'm doing that."

"Good," he smiles, patting his back. "I can´t wait to see your work all around the streets."

"Me neither."

"I'll see you in class."

"Thank you again, Mr. Lopez," he smiles, watches as his professor quickly walks down the steps and then turns to Chloe, a loud sigh escaping him as he sits down.

"Does every teacher love you?," she asks with a little smirk as Timothée chuckles. "I mean, I have never heard about a teacher that complained about you or anything."

"Haven't you heard? It's physically impossible to dislike me."

"Asshole," Chloe rolls her eyes, a little chuckle escaping her as she turns back to the sketchbook in her hands, flipping through a couple of the pages.

"Yo, Chalamet."

They both look up, frowns taking over their faces as Jackson runs in their direction, his afro swaying from side to side with the movement, his backpack nearly falling down his shoulders.

"When were you going to tell us that Armie drove you home last Friday?"

"Wait, what?"

"How do you even...," he sighs, closes his eyes and shakes his head. "Anna. You know, a part of me is starting to regret the fact I introduced you guys to her."

"Is this for real?," Chloe asks, an excited expression in her face as she closes the sketchbook, tossing it to the side. "How come you didn't tell us about this earlier?"

"Because it's no big deal."

"You went to his freaking apartment, Timothée."

"You did what?"

"Chloe, you really need to chill," Timothée chuckles, glancing at her. "And so do you, Jack."

"Just tell us what happened, will ya?"

"Armie needed a file he forgot at the office, Megan knew I lived close to his apartment building and asked if I could do this for her, so I did."

"And?"

"And he lives in a penthouse, with a view that is annoyingly beautiful and has an impeccable decoration that really suits his personality."

"And?"

"And after a few seconds of me embarrassing myself by just staring at the penthouse, he offered to drive me home as a thank you."

"Did something happen between you two?," Jackson asks, leaning against the sill, arms crossed and an eyebrow cocked. "Anna didn't really go much into detail, but I can´t picture you two inside a car all alone and nothing happening."

"Nothing happened."

"Timothée."

"I mean it," he assures them. "We did finally address what happened between us that night and how difficult it was for the both of us to deal with how things unraveled, but that was all."

"Nah, I don't buy it," Chloe shakes her head. "You're hiding something from us."

"I might have thought he was going to kiss me at some point, but it didn't happen."

"Why not?"

"He just backed away and said goodnight."

Jackson sighs, a hand landing on Timothée´s shoulder, which he squeezes it gently. "I´m sorry, man."

"You don't have to. I mean, I admit it was a bit disappointing when it happened, but I know it was for the best. A kiss would only make things even more complicated than they already are and I can´t risk anything jeopardizing my job, specially now that I have my very first project."

"Well, at least you guys talked, that might help moving forward, right?"

"Maybe," he shrugs, eyes moving from Jackson to Chloe. "I hope so."

  
  


* * *

  
  


Armie pours himself some coffee, the vapor hitting his face as well as the smell, which seems to irradiate throughout the entire office. He takes a sip, a smile spreading across his lips at the taste, the warmth incredibly welcoming. He glances out of the window, noticing traffic has gotten worse already and shakes his head, taking his mug with him. He enters the office, sighs as he notices the pile of files and folders on top of his desk, but makes his way over anyway, taking a seat at his chair.

He sips on his coffee a couple more times, then sets the mug aside, bringing his laptop closer. While he waits for it to turn it on, Armie goes through some of the files on his desk, most of them things that simply are in need of his signature, but he soon spots one or two that require more attention, care and obviously time. He bites his lip, turns his attention back to the laptop and opens a couple of folders, checking in some things before writing a few emails that have been in his schedule for almost two days now.

Swiftly, the minutes pass and he finds himself immersed in all the papers and projects that appear on his desk and computer, his blue eyes moving from one side to the other as he tries to make sure everything is being taken care of. He is distracted by a knock on the door and raises his gaze to find Megan there, a little smile on her lips as she holds a file pressed to her chest.

"Why are you looking at me like this?," Armie wonders, cocking an eyebrow. "Please, tell me you don't have bad news, I really could use a day where none of that shit happens."

"Chill out, I'm here in peace," she mocks while making her way over to him and handing the file. "These are those briefings you asked me for, the first one is from that Jewelry we talked to last week. They sent an email, which I have already attached to the briefing, if you want to take a look."

"Thanks, Megan. Anything else?"

"Leslie Mann, from the publisher, called and asked if you could get in contact with her. She wants to run some of the ideas for your grandfather's book with you, said she'll be at the office all day, so you can call her whenever you want."

"Great, I've been meaning to get in contact with her, but there's always so much going on."

She nods, leaning against the desk, her finger playing with some of the papers there.

"Oh, your dad called."

"And?"

"Apparently he talked to Mr. Crawford and now wants to talk to you," she grins, watching as Armie sighs, his fingers running through his hair. "He sounded quite chill if that makes you feel any better."

"Not really," he admits, shrugging his shoulders. "Him being chill doesn't necessarily mean I'm off the hook."

"Oh c'mon, your dad knows better than anyone how much the family business means to you, Armie. You are the CEO of the agency, you're in command of all of the family's enterprises, you take care of all the money and you've been doing gracefully for the last five years. Why would he put Mr. Crawford above all of that?"

Armie smiles, leaning his arms against the desk.

"Thanks, Megan."

"Your father trusts you, Armie, he always has and I doubt it will change now."

"I hope you're right."

"I'm always right, boss," she winks, a cheeky grin on her lips as she turns on her heels and heads to the door, stopping just as she turns on the handle. "Anything you need from me?"

"When Timothée arrives, please ask him to come here."

"May I know the subject?"

"You may not."

"I'm just trying to gather enough information to help the guy when he gets here, I'm sure he would be a lot less worried if he knew what this was about."

"Okay, then I'll tell you," he smiles. "The reason why I want him here is because I'm his boss and I want to talk to him."

Megan shoots him a glare and when Armie laughs, she simply rolls her eyes. As she closes the door, Armie sighs, a little smile on the corner of his lips as his eyes move back to the computer, the screen now black. He clicks on a random key, watches it all come to life again, but finds himself distracted, memories of Friday night and his conversation with Timothée flooding his head.

* * *

  
  
  


"...but I actually just skipped last period altogether," Timothée says while leaning back, his feet up on the leather seat as he reaches for more french fries. "Mr. Thompson decided it would be good for us to have a lecture with this random designer, but I wasn't really in the mood to sit there listening to this guy talk for about an hour, specially when I have so much work to go through."

"Two weeks working for a big design company and now he thinks he's too good for whatever Columbia University has to teach him," Chloe smirks, reaching for her drink. "You've changed, Chalamet."

"Fuck off."

"Did you at least get to work on something?," Jackson asks, adding a big dose of ketchup into his burger. "Or did you just sit there and read that book of yours for the hundredth time?"

"That book happens to be a classic of Latin American literature, alright?"

"Never heard of anyone else who read it," Jackson contests, shrugging his shoulders as he tosses a frie into his mouth.

"Maybe it's because you're too busy with your math problems and your new girlfriend," he forces a smile. "By the way, your brother in law reads it too."

"And how on earth do you know that?," Chloe questions, cocking an eyebrow as Timothée shrugs.

"I saw it in his office and we talked about it for a little while, nothing much."

"So, not only is he driving you home now, but you're also having meaning conversations about books you both have a weird attachment to?," she smirks, tucking a stray strand of her orange hair behind her ear. "What's next? Is he gonna give you presents? Or just officially elect you his favorite employee?"

"You're ridiculous."

"No, I just pay attention to the signs, Chalamet."

"And what do those signs tell you, Miss Sunshine?"

"That you two are gonna end up fucking again," she blurts out, which causes Jackson to laugh and Timothée to gasp. "And don't make that face or pretend to be a prude, when we all know you're not."

"That's not what I was doing," he protests, glancing at Jackson for help, but all he gets is a quick shrug of his shoulders. "Armie is my boss and I have come to terms with that, alright? Nothing is happening between us."

"I give it two weeks," Chloe says and she tries her best to keep herself serious, but can't help a chuckle to escape her.

"I say three."

"You too?," Timothée rolls his eyes and takes the milkshake out of Jackson's hand, slurping on it with the spare straw. "You two are crazy if you think I'm risking the greatest opportunity of my life because of a random guy."

"A random guy you're totally in love with, Tim. But I get it, rationally you know that the best thing you can do is stay away and just keep things professional. Emotionally, on the other hand, you want the guy and as much as you try to deny it, is right there on your face."

"Why do I even waste my time with you two?"

"Because you love us," Chloe smiles, but arches an eyebrow as she sees Timothée get up. "What? You're leaving us because of this?"

"No, idiot," he reaches for his backpack, which he swings over his shoulder before taking his drawing board and notebook in hand. "I have to work to go to and I don't wanna be late."

"Gotta keep that favorite status, right?"

"Fuck off," he sighs, shaking his head. "Both of you."

"Bye," Jackson and Chloe say in a singing tone as Timothée rolls his eyes, trying his very best to suppress a smile as he makes his way to the door.

As he steps outside, he takes a second to look at his surroundings, notices a few clouds that have suddenly taken over the sky and sighs, walking down the street. He feels his phone vibrating in his pocket and quickly reaches out for it, a frown as he notices it´s Megan calling him.

"Hey, is everything okay?"

"Yeah, everything's peachy," she replies, although she sounds slightly out of breath. "Look, I had an unexpected errand to make, so I had to rush out of the office like a mad woman. But Armie needs to talk to you, so once you get there, you go straight to his office, you hear me?"

Timothée cocks an eyebrow. "Did he say what he wants?"

"Green Eyes, I tried to get a preview on the subject, but he wouldn't say shit to me. Just make sure you go there and talk to him, okay?"

"Yeah, don´t worry."

"Great, now I have to go."

"Thanks for letting me know," he quickly says before she turns off the phone, causing him to chuckle. He then stops abruptly, his head going wild as he starts to question what exactly could have caused Armie to call him at his office. He bites his lip, scratches the back of his neck and sighs, already able to see the building in the distance, but way too apprehensive to take yet another step. 

It takes him a couple of seconds, but then Timothée realizes that if he had enough courage to actually bring out the subject of them sleeping together, he must be courageous enough to face whatever Armie has to discuss with him, work or not. He inhales, tries to put on a smile and nods his head, telling himself everything is gonna be alright and he will find a way to deal with the situation, one way or another.

  
  


* * *

  
  


"...I´m so glad to hear that Lilian," Armie says, leaning back against his leather chair, the phone pressed against his ear and a pen dangling from in between his fingers. He focuses his eyes in the direction of the big window, a smile spreading across his lips as he nods his head slowly, the words that come from the other side of the line sounding like music to his ears.

He twirls around on the chair, writes something down on his notebook and then glances up as he hears a knock on the door. He watches as the door opens and Timothée pokes his head inside, a timid smile on his lips. Armie gestures for him to walk in and sit down, then turns his eyes down to the notebook, adding a few more notes.

"That sounds perfect, Lilian. I can´t wait to actually see what you have prepared," he smiles, nodding his head. "I'll call you if anything changes. See you on Friday."

He hangs up the phone, tossing it to the side of the table before reaching for a couple papers on top of his laptop, which he now opens it and scrolls through for a couple of seconds. When he finally turns his attention back to Timothée, Armie notices he is sitting quite tensely on the chair, his arms crossed and his bottom lip nearly turning white from how hard he is biting it.

"I´m sorry if I interrupted you," he says after a moment. "But Megan said you wanted to talk to me and I should come straight into your office when I arrived."

"I did ask you to come here as soon as you arrived, so there's really no need for you to apologize for anything, Timothée," he winks, fumbles with some of the papers and then leans back against the chair, a comforting smile spreading across his lips. "So, I have news regarding your project."

"Should I be scared?"

"That depends," he shrugs. "How are you when it comes to talking to clients?"

"I´ve never really had a client before, so I wouldn´t know."

"Then I guess we'll figure it out together, because the owner of Notre Dame wants a meeting with you on Wednesday."

"This Wednesday?"

"Exactly," Armie nods. "He emailed me asking how things were going and after I explained everything, he asked if there was a possibility of him talking to you this week, seeing your first draft and hearing about that marketing pitch of yours."

"Oh," he nods, trying to control his nerves. "That sounds...terrifying."

"Yeah, I was pretty intimidated on my first client meeting too. The one advice I can give you though, is that no one else in the world knows more about this project than you do. So all you have to do is sit down with the client, explain why you did things the way you did and what exactly you´re trying to convey. Apart from that, all you gotta do is be respectful and most of the job is done."

Timothée nods, but Armie can´t help but notice him rubbing his hands against his jeans, clearly still a bit taken back by the sudden news.

"I know I´m gonna be okay, I just need to remind myself this is my new normal."

"And after this one is done, every other meeting will be a piece of cake."

"Every other meeting?"

"Well, if it's any consolation, I´m usually the one who gets the short end of the stick around here."

"Okay then," he chuckles as Armie shrugs.

"Oh, I also wanted to tell you that I did see the email you sent me regarding the project."

"And?"

"And I think you did a great job," he smiles, noticing the sigh of relief that escapes Timothée right away. "I specially like the changes you made in the logo, I think you maintained the essence of what you first came up with, but gave it a little spin, made it more modern and appealing to the audience we´re going for."

"I took your advice," Timothée shrugs. "After you told me it could be improved, I took some time to evaluate what I truly wanted to convey with it, so I made a few changes and it turns out I also liked it better the new way."

"Sometimes we need an outside view, someone who can help us see things in a different way. With a work like this specifically, we get so focused on it, it's easy to lose ourselves."

"I guess you're right."

"There are some other points I want to go through with you," he turns to the laptop, clicking on a couple of things before turning it so Timothée can take a better look at it too. "I like your ideas for the website, I think it's accessible, easy to understand, something not only the teenagers that are enrolled in the school can access, but also the parents, which is a great thing to do. The last thing we want is a school that keeps the parents away from what it´s on going on; while it's obvious the students need their privacy and something they see themselves in, the parents need to look at this and feel it is a safe environment for their children."

"I thought of that, but honestly my main goal was to have something that could appeal to all ages," Timothée explains, leaning against the desk. "I know the main targets for the school are teenagers and young adults, but I think it's important everyone who checks their material and sees their ads finds themselves connected to it somehow, because..."

Armie smiles, his eyes locked on Timothée as he explains his concept for the project, his eyes sparkling while he gesticulates non stop, clearly proud of himself for what he has accomplished. Armie nods slowly, encouraging him to keep on talking, his eyes following his direction when he points to a particular part of the screen.

"... and I thought this would fit better with what we´re trying to sell," he finishes, leaning back on the chair. He bites his lip, wrinkles his nose and then chuckles, shaking his head. "I'm speaking too much, right? That happens quite often."

"No, that's what I called you here in the first place, isn't it? To talk about your project, so if you have anything else you´d like to add, be my guest."

"No, I´m done."

"Good, then we can move on to your marketing pitch," he smiles. "You got anything I can look at?"

"I do," he nods, opening a folder on the table and taking a few sheets of paper out. "I spend most of my Sunday working on it and while it´s not yet completely finished, I think you can have a good idea of what I´m going for."

Armie pushes himself up, grabs his pen and circles the desk, stopping by Timothée so he can take a better look at the strategies he has lined up there. He leans against the desk, blue eyes scanning the papers while Timothée gives him a brief run through, making sure to point out things he thinks specially important. He nods, glances down at Timothée as he explains something about the ads he has planned and can´t help but let a proud smile spread across his lips.

He sits on the edge of the desk, arms crossed as Timothée gets up, pacing from one side to the other, completely immersed in his explanation, almost as if Armie is the client he has to sell his idea to. He takes a pen and his notepad, writes something down and then focuses his attention back to Timothée, making sure not to miss one word he is saying. Armie can´t really remember the last time he had someone on the team that was so enthusiastic about their work, someone so passionate about what they had created.

"...so, what you think?"

"I think that was a lot to process," he says, but regrets it the moment he sees Timothée´s expression. He shakes his head, taking a few steps over to him, his hand landing on his shoulder, squeezing it gently. "Sorry, I didn't mean it like that."

"You didn´t?"

"No," Armie assures him, his eyes lingering on him for a moment before he glances down at his lips, which seem so close. He closes his eyes, shakes his head and takes a step back, clearing his throat. "I think you talk really fast, but everything you said is perfect and I doubt there will be any room for rejection from our client. You´re gonna nail this, Timothée."

"I sure hope so."

"Trust me, there's no need to be worried. You basically have two days to finish your proposal, but from what I can see, you don't need any actual changes. So just calm down, go through what you already prepared and try not to freak out about this, because you´re gonna do well."

"Thank you, Mr. Hammer."

Armie smirks. "Still can´t call me Armie, huh?"

"I´ll get there eventually," he bites his lip, lets out a sigh and collects his things, but stops midway, his eyes finding Armie´s. "Hey, about Friday night, I hope I haven't made things even more awkward then they already were by bringing up what happened."

"Actually, I think talking about it might help us."

"You do?"

"We were trying to act like nothing happened, ignoring the big elephant in the room, but the more I think about it, the more certain I am that acknowledging it might be exactly what we needed."

Timothée bites his lip, nods his head slowly.

"I´m not saying things will magically change from now on, I think it's pretty clear we still have a long way to go, but maybe this was the first step into making things a lot easier for the both of us," he smiles. "Maybe we can even be friends eventually."

"Friends," Timothée mumbles, almost inaudible. "Good, I´m glad to hear that, because I really meant what I said about getting this job. I always thought your agency was one the best in the field, I´ve always admired the work you guys have done and it's an honor for me to be in your team, I would hate for anything to damage that."

"You don't have to worry about me," Armie assures him. "As far as I'm concerned, the only way you damage this opportunity is by screwing big time on a project. Besides, my dad really likes you, he probably would disown me if I fired you."

Timothée chuckles. "He might change his mind after he sees my project."

"What makes you think he hasn't?"

"He has?"

"Glimpses of it," Armie explains. "He will be joining us for the meeting though."

"Oh, that will definitely help make this a lot less stressing for me."

"You don't have to worry about him, Timothée. He likes your work already, which is why he was so keen on hiring you, you really don't have anything to worry about."

"I´ll try to remember that," he smiles, taking his things with him as he makes his way to the door. "Thank you, Mr....Armie."

"Well, would you look at that?"

With a smile, Timothée exits the office and Armie watches him. He's happy they are slowly becoming more accustomed with one another, being able to talk more freely, even laugh together. And while it still ain't easy to be next to Timothée without the desire to reach out and touch, Armie hopes things can only improve from now on.

* * *

  
  
  


"...obviously, that was shortly before he said how he looks forward to us being friends," Timothée sighs, smacking his lip together as he places the bottle of wine down on the counter, his free hand gripping onto the granite so tight one could think he is about to tear it off with his bare hands. 

"Ouch," Chloe wrinkles her nose. "That doesn't sound very promising, does it?"

"That's not even the worst part of it."

"It isn´t?"

"No, because I should be happy that he even wants to be my friend, right? Strenghten our relationship and work on a good partnership, which would make both of our work better, instead I am fucking pissed, because the truth is I can´t stop thinking about him and all the things I wanna do with him and to him," he lets out a laugh, a slightly manical and hysterical one, which causes Chloe to cock an eyebrow, slightly surprised with the outburtst. 

"Okay, I wasn't expecting all of that."

"Neither was I," he sighs, burying his face in his hand for a couple of seconds, before he reaches for his glass and drinks it all in one go, the liquid burning down his throat. "How did I get here, huh? How does this man cause such an effect on me when we´ve been together for a total of forty-five minutes? Can you, please, enlighten me on this one?"

"I think love and attraction work in ways we can´t really explain, Tim."

"That's all you got?," he asks, already pouring himself another glass. "I need more than this."

"Do you? I mean, yeah, I get that not everything is easy, there are peaks and valleys, but you´ve been doing so well. I think if you just have a little bit of patience, you´ll see that things are not even as bad as they seem to be."

"I´m in love with my boss, Chloe, how much worse can it get?"

Chloe sighs, her finger tracing the glass as she tries to think of something to say that will ease Timothée´s nerves, but she knows it's nearly pointless. 

"I´m sorry I can´t be much of a help, but I do believe that things happen for a reason and if Armie walked into your life, there is a purpose for it."

"So far seems the purpose is to make my life quite complicated."

"Complicated, but quite exciting, isn't it?," Timothée frowns and Chloe arches an eyebrow, leaning on the counter so she´s closer to him. "Tell me that it doesn't give you even a little bit of a thrill to be alone in a room with him, not knowing what's gonna happen next, or that you didn't have butterflies on your stomach all the way to your house last Friday while you were in his car?"

"Yes, I feel all of this, which is why this situation is crazy."

"Listen, you can´t run away from this. The only way to deal with this whole thing without making a mess, would be by giving up the job you´ve always dreamt of and since I know you´re not gonna do such a thing, then just let life take its course and if it gets messy, than either you learn how to clean it or you tuck it under the rug and move along with your life."

Timothée frowns, although he can´t really contain a smile from spreading across his lips. "I should have gone to Jackson for this conversation, shouldn´t I?"

"Maybe, but you'd miss out on my great analogies."

"True," he winks, clinks glasses with Chloe and then finishes yet another glass of wine, just as the doorbell rings. "That must be Jackson with our pizza."

"The fucker is almost an hour late."

"Wanna bet there's a blonde millionaire behind this?," Timothée smirks, glancing over his shoulder at Chloe while running to the door, which he opens to reveal Jackson and Anna standing there. "I had a hint you´d be behind this door."

"I hope it is okay I'm here," Anna quickly says. "Jackson said you wouldn't mind."

"And I don´t," Timothée takes her hand, pulling her inside the apartment as Chloe waves from the kitchen. "I am slightly mad you caused the pizza delivery to be later than usual, though."

"I told him to go pick it up while I got ready, but he wouldn't listen."

"Is here now, isn't it?," Jackson shrugs, walking to the kitchen and placing the two pizza boxes down on the counter. "So, what did we miss?"

"Oh, nothing much. Timothée was just telling me how he is madly in love..."

"With my project," he says quickly, glaring at Chloe, who rolls her eyes. As Jackson glances at him, Timothée simply shakes his head, then turns to Anna, who´s silently observing the three of them. "Hope you feel welcomed in my home. I know it's probably nothing compared to where you live, but it's quite nice."

"It´s a great place," she assures him, sliding a hand over his shoulder. "It does kind of remind me of when I would visit my brother at his apartment in Ithaca while he was in Cornell, the difference is he shared that place with other three guys, which made it almost impossible to be in there for longer than ten minutes."

"Your millionaire brother shared an apartment with three other dudes in college?"

Anna shrugs. "He wanted the full college experience, I guess."

"Can´t relate."

"Me neither," Anna chuckles, taking a seat across from Chloe on the counter.


	15. Don't Carry The World Upon Your Shoulder

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> New complications in the horizon

A few birds chirp as they land on the parapet, the Sun hidden behind a couple of clouds while the city grows busier by the second. From the wooden chair in his balcony, Armie listens to the sounds of the city, a large mug of coffee in his hand and a couple of paper sheets spread across the table. He reaches for one in particular, blue eyes attentive to every little detail of it before he goes back to the one he had previously, biting his lip as he tries to decide which one is more suitable.

He hears the elevator and leans his chair back, cocking an eyebrow as the doors open and Anna steps out, her hair tied up in a bun and brown paper bag on her hand. She waves at him, walks straight to the kitchen and pours herself some coffee before she drags herself across the penthouse to join him in the balcony. He watches her silently, smiles as he notices the bag in her hand is from the bakery down the street and swiftly reaches for it, peeking at its contents.

He takes a croissant and immediately bites on it, the buttery taste of it a delightful treat in an already busy morning. He takes a couple more bites of it, then sips some coffee, his eyes back to the papers scattered across the table, which for a moment had been forgotten.

"So, did something happen while you were in London?"

"Excuse me?"

"It's not really typical of you to be up this early, but you´ve been doing quite a lot ever since you came back," he shrugs, a little smirk on his face as Anna rolls her eyes. "I was just wondering."

"Idiot," she kicks his leg under the table, causing Armie´s eyes to grow wide as he recoils, groaning. "And just so you know, I spent the night at Jackson´s place, so when he woke up to go to college, I ended up waking up too."

"Oh right, I sometimes forget you now have a boyfriend."

"And a very good one, may I add."

Armie smirks. "How you´re dealing with the idea of dating a younger man?"

"You know I had a moment of doubt at first, but now I'm simply embracing what I am feeling and allowing life to take its course. And let´s be honest, if man can do it, why can´t I?"

"As long as you´re happy, Anna, that should be the only thing that matters."

"I am happy," she smiles, takes a bite of her bagel and then leans against the table, gesturing to all the papers there. "What's up with this? Because it's not your usual working material."

"These are the samples Leslie sent me for grandpas´s book."

"Oh, I completely forgot about this little project of yours," she says, suddenly a lot more enthusiastic. She reaches for some of the papers, her eyes moving from one to the other, taking notice of everything she sees. "This looks really good, Armie."

"I know. You think he´d like it?"

"I think he would love to know his grandson loves him so much he's working on his memoir, showcasing his life story to a younger generation, who didn´t have the chance to see his brilliance. Grandpa always knew you had talent and an eye for the business, I think he would be so happy to see what you´re doing with the Hammer legacy."

"Thanks."

"I mean," she smiles, reaching for his hand, which she strokes gently. "I also know dad talked to Mr. Crawford and fired his old ass."

"Yeah, I´ve heard."

"You don't seem as happy as you should be with this news, Armand."

"I don't usually get happy when I see someone being fired, even if the person in question was an asshole who happened to make me lose a couple nights of sleep," he chuckles, leaning back on his chair, the croissant still in his hand. "I'm glad I won't have to deal with him any longer, though."

"You and me both, I never liked that man, always thought he was creepy as fuck."

"And you never even saw him doing business, he got even creepier."

"I didn't know that was possible," she says as Armie bursts out laughing. "Seriously, how does one get even creepier than that?"

"I can try to explain, but it won't make justice to the essence of it all."

"Maybe I don't wanna know."

"Might save you some nightmares," he winks, unable to stop himself from laughing. "By the way, thank you for the breakfast treat. I didn't have anything in the house today and was so not in the mood to go out to buy it."

"Were you seriously gonna have only a mug of coffee for breakfast?"

"No, I would have about two or three."

* * *

  
  
  


"Hey, Chalamet."

Timothée stops on the steps to the main building, his backpack nearly falling off of his shoulder as he glances back, catching a glimpse of Chloe, her orange hair swinging from side to side, as she rushes over to him. He turns around, arms crossed and eyes squinted from the Sun as he waits for her to reach him.

"Good morning, Miss Sunshine."

"How you doing? Feeling better?"

"Was I feeling bad?," he asks, slightly confused with her question.

"Well, you had a mild breakdown over Armie saying you could be friends."

"When you say breakdown you make it seem a lot more dramatic than it really was."

"You were rambling," she fires back, shrugging her shoulders. "And your cheeks were slightly flushed, not to mention how you kept moving around the kitchen as if..."

"Okay, I get it," he cuts her off, sighing as they both walk towards the building. "After Jack and Anna arrived, I kind of forgot about the whole thing and when I did remember, I realized that I was perhaps making it sound a lot worse than it really is. Considering the situation we find ourselves in, I should be more than happy if we manage to be friends."

"That's a positive way to see things."

"I'm learning a thing or two from you," he winks, nudging her gently. "But I have to admit, it's not gonna be easy being his friend."

"Because you're in love with him?," Timothée swallows thickly, his jaw clenched as he looks down at his hands, fumbling with his fingers. "C'mon, you can say it. It would be a lot easier if you would just admit it, not only to me, but also to yourself."

"Is just so complicated," he sighs, leaning against the closest wall. "He's my boss, I shouldn't feel anything for him, yet he's constantly clouding my mind and haunting my dreams. Of all the people I could fall for, why him?"

"Why not him? You're looking at this as if it's a curse, when it could be the greatest thing that has ever happened to you."

"Being in love with my boss could be the greatest thing that has happened to him? How is that even possible?"

"Yes, he's your boss and that does make things slightly complicated, but it doesn't mean it's all ruined. Maybe you can still make it work."

Timothée stares at her, scoffs and shakes his head, a little smile spreading across his lips.

"Even in my most positive days, I wish I had an ounce of your positivity, because it really would make things a lot easier for me."

"Well, if you're not gonna be as positive as me, at least try not to dwell too much into things. Find a middle ground instead of being a downright pessimist."

He nods, linking arms with her as they get back to walking down the hallway. "I promise to try my best."

* * *

  
  


The elevator doors open to reveal a rather busy office, a few members of the team gather on the large communal table, a couple papers spread around them as they heatedly discuss which one of the options is the best suited for the project. With an eyebrow arched and clear curiosity in his eyes, Armie walks straight to the group, glancing over everyone's shoulder to get a glimpse of what they are doing.

Charming as ever, he moves closer to the table once his employees open some space for him, explaining his point of view and what direction he would take if he was in their shoes. He smiles once the group nods their approval, pats someone's shoulder and takes a step back from the conversation, watching with a gleam in his eyes as they all quickly fall back into conversation, all of them eager to discuss their ideas.

He smiles, turns on his heels and heads over to Megan's desk, where her and Anna are talking. He leans his hip against the desk, cocking his eyebrows as he glances at Megan, who swiftly goes through her desk and slides a couple of folders over to him. He takes a quick look through it, nods his head and then heads to his office, Anna trailing close behind.

"So, mind telling me why you were so keen on coming here?"

"I wanted to talk to you."

"And you couldn't do it back at the penthouse?"

"I could, but you've always been so keen on separating the personal parts of your life from the professional, I figured this would be a better place to discuss business than at the penthouse."

"Wait, what are you talking about?"

"I'm here to talk about my brand," she explains, a smile spreading across her lips as she leans against the leather chair. 

Armie scoffs and sits on top of his desk, his eyes locked on Anna, who stares back at him quite seriously.

"Are you for real right now?"

"Yes and I want to hire the company to work on my visual identity and marketing strategy."

"You want to work with me?"

"Armie, I have an eye for clothing, shoes and accessories, but when it comes to the world of marketing and graphic design, you're the talented one in the family. So do your best and amuse this new client of yours."

"Are you serious?"

"Yes, I´m serious."

"Okay," Armie nods slowly, hops off of the table and takes a seat on his chair, while he gestures to the one across from him. 

Anna rolls her eyes at the formality, but sits down anyway, arms crossed as she watches her brother go through some papers, grab his notepad and a tablet, which he turns on and scrolls through.

"What are you doing, Armie?"

"I´m going to write down what you envision for your mark, we´re gonna brainstorm a little bit, check some references and then I´m gonna build a project and see who in our team is best fitted for the job."

"Seriously? I´m your fucking sister."

"Didn't you just say you want me to treat you like any other client?"

Anna sighs, but nods her head anyway.

"So, this is how I run the company and we´re gonna do things my way."

"Fine, we´ll do things your way."

"Great, you want to go through some images, show me what you have in mind when you think of your mark?," he wonders as Anna takes the tablet from him, scrolling through some images. "Normally when we´re working on a company, we focus on what they are selling, but when we work on something like this, a personal mark we tend to focus on the personality of the person selling it."

"Meaning we'd go for something that resonates with me, that would remind people of my personality and character."

"Exactly," he nods. "So, when I think of you, I see something strong and vibrant, something that will cause an impact. It shouldn't be too delicate or with soft colors, so we should probably go for a bold form and one pop of color that will immediately draw people in."

"Wow," Anna smiles, leaning forward on the desk. "When you say strong and vibrant, does that mean that's how you see me?"

"How else would I see you?"

"That's sweet of you."

"You should know by now I think you´re amazing, even if you annoy the hell out of me sometimes."

"That's what siblings are for," she winks. "But back to business, I guess you summarized quite well what I am looking for. But I have some photos for reference and I could send it to you later, so you can build my project."

"Are you doing anything tonight?"

"No, I got nothing planned."

"Okay, then I can stop by the house for dinner and you´ll take me through all the ideas you had, let me know exactly how you see things."

"Sounds good to me," she nods. "Not to mention, dad and Margareth will love to have you there for dinner."

"And I can eat some of Beth´s food for a change."

* * *

  
  


Timothée sighs, glancing up from his phone to the line ahead of him, where at least a dozen people wait for the chance to get a cup of coffee. He looks back down at his phone, scrolling through pages and pages of an article his professor sent to him to help with his latest assignment. 

As the line moves, he quickly takes a step further, hearing some commotion and a couple of giggles coming from the two young girls that are standing behind him. He looks over his shoulder, biting his lip as he spots Armie, dressed casually in jeans and a dark grey sweater. When their eyes meet, Timothée finds himself unsure of what to do; does he address him as his boss or the potential friend with whom he once slept with? What is the protocol when they are outside of the office? Considering how things went the last time they were alone, Timothée isn't really sure of how to handle the situation.

"Good afternoon," he suddenly hears the voice, a little way too close for his own good. 

"Good afternoon, Mr...," he stops himself mid sentence, bites his lip and shakes his head, allowing himself to smile when Armie shoots him a look. "Good afternoon, Armie."

"You're getting the hang of it, huh?"

"I'll get there eventually... I think."

"I believe in you," Armie winks, his charming smile able to ease Timothée off of any worry he could possibly still have. "So, how's your preparation for the presentation?"

"Still a bit anxious, but trying to remind myself of what you said, that no one will ever know more about this project than me."

"Can I tell you a little secret?," he smiles, in his eyes a different kind of gleam, one Timothée hasn't seen before. He looks almost like a child, who's just pulled a prank on their parents. "Most of the time, meetings like this are just to make sure the client feels as if he has a bigger role into this whole thing than they really do. Your project sells itself, Timothée, all you have to do tomorrow is give a little explaining of how you reached that and why that is beneficial to their company."

"Funny, that's not what my professors are teaching me."

"Really? Maybe the professors at Cornell were a little less idyllic than the ones at Columbia."

Timothée scoffs, his eyes lingering on Armie's for a second before he realizes that he is the next one in line. Still confused as to how time passed so quickly since Armie appeared beside him, he steps closer to the stand, a little smile spreading across his lips as Greg glances at him and immediately nods, a sign he knows exactly what he wants.

Armie stands beside him, silence now taking them over, although Timothée can feel his eyes on him, paying close attention to every little move he makes. The notion itself makes him blush, a gentle shiver running down his spine as he bites his lip. He dares to glance up at him, only to realize that while most people would immediately look away, Armie holds his gaze, almost as if daring him to say or do something.

Maybe Chloe was right, maybe he should stop being so pessimistic, allow life to take its course and see where it takes them.

"Here ya go," Greg suddenly shouts, turning to face them. "One red eye for the boss, one caramel macchiato for Mr. Green Eyes."

"Mr. Green Eyes?," Armie wonders, cocking an eyebrow.

"That's how Megan calls me," he explains, only then noticing Armie has his wallet in hand and has already given Greg the money for both of their coffee. "What are you doing?"

"Paying for our coffee?"

"Armie, you really don't have to."

"I know that, but I want to do it anyway," he smiles, takes the cup of steaming hot coffee and sips carefully on it. "Besides, you saved me from going to the end of the line."

Armie half whispers the last bit and Timothée looks back to see the line has grown even more now. He chuckles, shakes his head and silently follows Armie across the street and inside the Hammer building, watching as he moves around the place with ease and grace, his kind eyes and charming smile enchanting everyone they cross paths with.

* * *

  
  
  


Timothée groans, his hands planted on his temples, his eyes down on the table, where his marketing pitch and the template for the design of the school are lying. He goes through every little detail, tries his best to absorb every information and make sure he has answers for any possible question that might come his way.

He is fully aware Mr. Hammer senior will also be joining the meeting, probably to analyse him and make sure he was right in forcing his hiring, which for Timothée means he needs to be on the top of his game, make the best presentation of his life, wow them with his skills and talent.

And while his mother would probably tell him he doesn't need to worry much about this, because he is talented enough for anyone to see, he feels slightly scared of screwing it up, saying something weird or being too intense. He's learned over the years that the line between being competent and over the top can be very thin.

He sighs, leans back and closes his eyes for a moment, rubbing his temples. He tries to relax himself, clear his mind from all the anxiety for the job and focus on what Armie had told him only a couple of hours ago. He was more than capable for the job, his project was perfect and only a fool would reject it. And if Armie, the owner of the whole thing, his boss and former graphic designer himself was saying he got this, he should probably believe him.

A knock on the door distracts him and he pushes himself up from the floor, dragging himself across the living room and to the door. He opens it to see Jackson standing there, a little smile on the corner of his lips and a bag on his hand.

"Didn't you have practice tonight?"

"It got cancelled and Anna is having a little family dinner, so I thought I could stop by and see at what level of freaking out you currently are," he chuckles, walking past Timothée, who rolls his eyes. "I know your meeting with the client is tomorrow and knowing you, there must be so much going on through that head of yours, I can´t even decide where to start."

"Not only am I your third choice of the night, you also come in to mock me? If I hadn't already noticed that bag of mexican food in your hands, I'd kick you out of this apartment."

"You wouldn't, because if you did, you'd have to go back to overthinking."

"Fuck off," he groans, takes the bag from Jackson and heads to the kitchen, hopping on one of the stools before unpacking the food and opening the can of soda. He takes a sip or two, licks his lips and glances up at Jackson, who sits across from him on the counter, already stuffing his mouth with nachos. "But you are kind of right, I was thinking about tomorrow's meeting."

"I know you were."

"I'm a little worried I might screw this one up and that's the last thing I want," he sighs, leaning his chin on the palm of his hand, his elbow pressed against the counter. "I'm working really hard on this project, I'm dedicating all my time and talent to it, I want everything to be just perfect tomorrow and the client to like the things I've come up with."

"Armie has seen the project, hasn't he?"

"Yes, he has."

"And?"

"And he basically told me there is no possible way to screw this one up, that this meeting is more of a way to make sure the client feels more in control of things."

"And you don't trust him?"

"I do trust him," he shrugs, reaching for a nacho. "I guess I'm just really nervous because I never actually had to do this before, you know? This is my first job in my area and my very first real project, it's hard not to get anxious."

"I know where you're coming from," Jackson nods, sips of his coke and then shrugs. "Well, there's not really much to do other than just face your fear and deliver the best presentation you can, Tim. You followed the client's requests, you talked to your boss, who approved the project and told you not to worry. In my experience all you gotta do now is take your mind off of this for a second and just relax, because otherwise you'll be so caught up on your own thoughts, you will end up exhausting yourself."

Timothée bites his lip, but nods his head anyway, aware Jackson is right. He inhales deeply, puts on a small smile and takes his little plastic plate with him as he hops off of the stool.

"C'mon, let's eat outside."

"Does that neighbor still play the clarinet every night?," he asks while following Timothée to the balcony, a little chuckle escaping him when Timothée glances at him over his shoulder with an annoyed look. "Judging by your face, I guess he does."

"Oh, now he does it twice a day, early morning and night," he rolls his eyes, throwing himself down on one of the chairs. "I'm surrounded by weirdos."

* * *

  
  


"And this is a rough sketch of how your logo could be," Armie explains, placing the paper down on the large wooden desk in his father's office, his sister hovering over his shoulder to look at everything he has already shown her. He glances around the desk, reaches for a ripped magazine page and brings it closer to his sketch, obviously pointing out the similarities. "You see, in some ways it follows the same premise as this one here, it´s bold, direct and better suited for someone who has a strong personality and it's obviously gonna be imprinting that into their brand."

Anna smiles, shaking her head in disbelief as she leans against the desk. "I knew you were good, but I never truly realized just how good you really are."

"Your brother was born for this," Douglas says from the chair opposite from Armie, a proud smile on his lips. "Which is why I was a little bit surprised when he decided to get an administration and economics degree instead of an art one, but I guess he never really needed that to be a good artist."

"Can you two stop?," he runs his tongue through his bottom lip, bites it gently afterwards and turns back to the papers and photos that are now filling up the desk.

"He's always been bad at receiving compliments, though."

Anna laughs, forcing Armie to face her and pinching his cheeks. "Look at this, he's about to blush."

"Fuck off."

"Armie, don´t talk like this with your sister."

"You clearly don't know your daughter," Armie mumbles. "She probably says worse things than I do."

"Liar."

Douglas laughs, watching his kids with eyes filled with devotion and love.

"Isn't this supposed to be a work meeting? Can we go back to that instead of talking about me?"

"Fine, what else do you want to show me?"

"The layout for the website," he hands her a template. "When you emailed me your ideas earlier, you said how you want to use this place to sell the clothes, but also to share your views on fashion, talk to your clients and give them tips. I thought this interface here would be the best one to accommodate everything, but since websites aren't really my main expertise, we´ll talk a little bit more about it and then I´ll run through a friend of mine, who can maybe give us some tips on what it's best for what you want."

"Thank you, brother," she leans in, planting a loud kiss on his cheeks. "Everything you showed me is incredible, I´m so happy seeing this and it's only a rough sketch, I can´t even imagine how I´ll be once I see the real deal."

"Do you have any idea of who you´re gonna entrust with the project?"

"I'll do it myself."

"What?," both Anna and Douglas ask in unison.

"I´ve already come up with all of these, what exactly you guys had in mind?"

"I thought this was some sort of guideline you would use," Douglas explains, leaning forward. "Are you sure you can add more stuff to your plate right now, son? I know you have a lot going on."

"I do, that's why I´m gonna assign someone to help me, but I´ll be the head of the project."

"Really?"

"Only the best for my little sister."

"Aren't you the cutest," she mocks as Armie chuckles. "But truth be told, brother, while you are an incredibly talented man, you are not exactly someone who understands anything about fashion."

"Which is why I´ll make sure the person I assign to help me does."

"And do you have any idea of who that person is going to be?," Douglas asks, an eyebrow cocked.

"Not yet."

"I might know who would be a good idea," Anna says, a little cheeky grin spreading across her face as Armie and Douglas glance at her. And while her father doesn't pay much attention to the look in her face, Armie immediately understands where she is going with this, which leaves him dreading the next couple of words that leave her lips. "Timothée seems like the best option for this job. Not only is he young and loves fashion, he also has this thing I love, which is being able to make even the simplest of things stylish. I think he could give you some nice inputs on how to navigate through the world of fashion and what directions to follow."

"That actually sounds like a good idea," Douglas smiles. "And if I remember correctly, you said when you met him you two bonded over fashion, right?"

"Yeah, that's right."

"So I assume you guys have a similar taste or that at least he understands your preferences," he smiles, turning to Armie, who remains silent, his hands gripping onto the desk and his knuckles slowly turning pale. "What you say, Armie?"

"Timothée already has a project."

"Most of the people in our team work in more than one project at once, son, that doesn't really sound like a big deal. Also, I am sure he would be thrilled to get the chance to work with you."

"I'm certain he will."

"Yeah, but this is his first project and I can tell he is slightly nervous, so maybe we shouldn't put so much weight upon his shoulders right now?"

"I say we should talk to him before making any assumptions," Douglas quickly replies and Armie simply looks down, inhaling deeply. While his relationship with Timothée surely improved once they addressed what had happened between them and he now feels a lot more comfortable to be around him, this is still Timothée and working on an entire project with him might be a bit more than he could take without doing something reckless. "So, what do you say?"

"Yeah, I´ll...I´ll talk to him and see if he wants to join the project," he eventually says, trying to force a smile as his father nods. Once he notices his attention is already on something else, Armie turns to Anna, who by now is pouring herself a drink and shoots her a glare while mouthing, "I hate you."


	16. On Top Of The World

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> All Mine

Clouds take over the New York sky while shops start to open and students fill up the streets in route to their schools and universities. With his head down and hoodie on, Armie jogs through the sidewalks, his airpods helping him seclude himself from the outside world. He huffs and sweats, changing from a quicker to a slower pace from time to time, his thighs already spasming from the exercise.

He suddenly comes to a stop, gasping for air as he pulls the hoodie back, his fingers running through his dark blond hair as he glances around him. It takes him a minute, but Armie eventually realizes he has come to stop right across Timothée's building, which has a fancy iron gate and extremely well kept brownstone walls. He wonders how expensive the place must be, considering how close to Columbia it is and the fact the neighborhood is highly estimated. As he comes to think about it, Armie realizes this might be one of the reasons why Timothée was so keen on getting the job; he mentioned being jobless for a few months and with an apartment in this neighborhood and studying at Columbia, he was probably already in dire need of money.

His eyes scan the building, wondering in what floor does Timothée live, which one of the balconies he sees belongs to him. Maybe if he stands there for long enough he will show up, catch a glimpse of him from under his lashes as he drinks his morning coffee, smile and wave at him. Or maybe he would just stare at him in complete disgust, asking himself why the man he now calls boss is basically stalking him. He sighs, shakes his head and turns on his heels, heading back from where he came from, his pace quickening as the seconds go by until he is running again.

He stops once again, this time to enter a little delicatessen, where he buys himself a large cup of coffee and a sandwich. He sips on the coffee on his way back to his apartment building, smiles at the doorman and makes sure to say good morning to all the staff he encounters by the lobby before typing in the code to his private elevator. He leans against the wall as it starts its climb, his eyes lost as he thinks of all the things he has to do throughout the day. When the doors open, Armie stands there for just a moment, appreciating the view he has. Even with all the work he's got upon his shoulder lately, he can't possibly complain about his life.

He sets the things down on the counter, walks to the bathroom and takes a quick shower, putting on some sweatpants and an old shirt before going back to the kitchen. He sits in one of the stools, drinks the rest of his coffee and nibbles on his sandwich while scrolling through his computer. If Margareth ever saw this scene, she would scold him for days, explaining just how unhealthy it is to eat while focused on a computer screen. He chuckles at the thought, opens yet another file and carefully reads it, nodding to himself as he reaches a couple of sections. When the phone starts to ring, Armie only glances at it before accepting the call and turning the loudspeaker on, Megan's voice suddenly echoing through the penthouse.

"Morning, boss."

"Morning, Megan. What can I do for you this morning?"

"I'm pretty sure it is the other way around," she chuckles and Armie smiles. "Anyway, Mr. Bernard called and has confirmed the meeting today."

"Great, text Timothée and let him know everything's going as scheduled."

"Already done that," she quickly replies. "Hercules from the tech company on the tenth floor called and said he's got his afternoon mostly free, so you can call him and he'll come up here to see you."

"Great," he says, eyes completely lost on the screen. "Megan, I have a new project I'm working on and have already sent to your email a list of things I'll be needing, can you please check that out?"

"I'm on it. Is there anything else you need me to do?"

"Just guarantee the conference room is ready for the meeting, I want everything to go as smoothly as possible this afternoon."

"Timothée's big break, huh?"

"Yeah and he is very anxious about the whole thing," he sighs. "Just make sure everything's okay, alright?"

"Nothing to worry about boss," she replies and even without seeing her, Armie can tell there's a big and warm smile on her face. "I'll see you later, boss."

"See you later," he hangs up the phone, a loud sigh escaping him as he looks around the penthouse, trying to figure out what to do next. He grabs his phone, finds his dad's contact and quickly writes him a text. He really hopes everything goes out well during the meeting, Timothée sure deserves it.

* * *

  
  


Timothée stands by the side of the vendor, waiting patiently for his cup of coffee, his eyes focused on the man's hands, watching the way he so effortlessly maneuvers all his tools. He bites his lip, glances over his shoulder for a second and catches a glimpse of Chloe, who talks with a couple of her friends, her orange hair blowing with the wind.

She spots him eventually, smiles and then turns to her friends, saying something before she´s running in his direction, a wide and beaming smile on her lips. She slides an arm across his shoulder, plants a rather loud kiss on his cheek and then turns to the vendor, ordering herself a coffee too.

"So, today is the big day, huh?"

"Yeah," Timothée practically mumbles, taking the cup the vendor hands him and immediately taking a sip. "Thank you."

"How you´re feeling, buddy?"

"Anxious as hell, even though I am trying my best not to be."

"You know, I love how you can so easily transition from this incredibly confident guy to this mumbling mess, who can barely stand still."

"I´m layered, what can I do?," he shrugs, a little chuckle escaping him. "Truth is, I have everyone telling me that I should just chill out and do my best, but it's just not easy to do so, you know?"

"Actually, I do," she smiles, gently squeezing his shoulder. "You´re working on a pretty huge company and this is first time in your life that you´re actually standing face to face with a client, trying to get him to understand what you envisioned for their company, for something they have probably been working on for years and only an deranged person wouldn't be at all affected by this. So, while I agree that you have to try and remain as calm as possible, to guarantee you´ll do your best job out there, I also completely understand how hard it can be to do that and you shouldn´t be ashamed of it."

"Thank you," he smiles. "I really needed this."

"I´m always here for you, buddy," she kisses his cheek once more, smiles as the vendor hands her a cup and hands him the money. "Thank you."

As she takes a couple of sips, Timothée links arms with her, both of them walking towards the main building, where about a thousand students come and go. He is about to speak when he hears his phone going off and reaches for it on his pocket, a frown forming on his face as he sees the name on the screen.

"What?"

"It´s Anna."

"Well, pick it up and see what she wants."

"Right," he mumbles, still slightly confused on why she would be calling him this early in the morning. "Hello?"

"Hey, Tim, I hope I'm not interrupting you."

"No, it's all good, I was just having a cup of coffee before class. Is everything alright?"

"Yes," she quickly replies. "Listen, I know you have the Notre Dame meeting today and you´re probably a bit tight on schedule, but do you think we could meet up, I really need to talk to you."

"About what?"

"It's just something I'm working on, but I rather talk to you in person," she answers. "You think you can do it?"

"Well, I have about an hour in between leaving campus and work."

"Then maybe we could have lunch together? I promise you won't be late, I can even drive you to the office myself."

"Yeah, that sounds good."

"Great, I´ll pick you up at campus then, is that alright?"

"Yeah, that's alright," he says, although a part of him is still extremely confused about this conversation. "Yeah, I´ll see you then."

"What did she want?," Chloe asks as soon as he hangs up the phone.

"She wants to have lunch with me to discuss something, but she wouldn´t tell me exactly what it was."

"You think it has something to do with the company?"

"I doubt it," he shrugs. "Anna doesn´t get involved in the family business at all. I mean, she knows everyone at the office, but she barely stops by, most of them she knows because she always joins Armie and the team at the bar once a month."

"Then maybe it's about Jack?"

"Nah, it sounds like she´s got a plan and wants to include me in it somehow. I just can´t figure out what it is."

"Well, lunch is not that far away, is it?"

Timothée chuckles, shaking his head as he follows Chloe up the stairs and inside the main building, his eyes following the people around him while on his mind all he can think of is what on earth Anna could possibly want with him all of a sudden.

  
  


* * *

It's past three in the afternoon and the rain has finally started falling, the New York sky is dark as night. On the streets, people try to outrun the rain, seeking shelter underneath marquees or inside coffee shops, while traffic becomes nearly unbearable. On the twentieth floor of the Hammer building, Armie is leaned against the wall of the conference room, arm crossed above his chest while he pays close attention to every single word that comes out from Timothée´s mouth.

He started off a bit nervous, apologized to his father for any mistakes he could do, but once he started talking, it was almost like he was a completely different person. He was confident, explaining his project in the most meticulous ways possible, wowing not only their client, but also his father, who seemed even more proud of himself for fighting for his hiring.

Armie wasn´t surprised though, from the moment Timothée first showed him a draft of his project, he could tell he would nail this. It was in his blood, engraved in every cell of his body; he was born for this job and he was the kind of man that would take full advantage of it. That inspired Armie, but most of all, he was proud of seeing Timothée there, owning that conference room as if it was his own, answering every possible question their client had without even batting an eye. 

He smiles, glances over at his father for a second, but can´t seem to take his eyes away from Timothée for too long. Seeing him do his thing is one of the best things Armie has ever experienced in his life and he can´t wait to see what he comes up with next, because if he is so great in a presentation he was so nervous about, he can´t even imagine the things he will do after a whole year in the company. 

"...and I am sure it will be a rewarding experience, not only for you, but also for your staff and most importantly, your students."

There´s a few seconds of silence after Timothée finishes and from the window Armie can almost see him start to freak out, a glimpse of fear crossing through his eyes at the silence. It all disappears when Mr. Bernard stands up, clapping his hands and sporting one of the widest smiles he has ever seen in his life.

"Mr. Chalamet, thank you so much for this. You created something that was so much more than I could have ever envisioned for my school, I can´t wait to see it all come together."

"Thank you, Mr. Bernard."

"Does this mean you greenlight the project, Mr. Bernard," Armie´s voice thunders through the office as he pushes himself off from the wall and joins them at the center of the conference room. "Can we move along?"

"Definitely."

"Wonderful, it's always a pleasure seeing a happy client."

"I didn't expect anything less than amazing from your company, Armand," he shakes hands with Armie and then turns to Douglas, giving him a quick pat on the back. "You raised a very intelligent man, Douglas, who has a very keen eye to the business. I´m not at all surprised he chose the right person for the project right away, he knows exactly what he is doing."

"Mr. Chalamet is the newest member of our team," Armie explains, locking eyes with Timothée for a brief second. "And not only is he incredibly talented and resourceful, like you´ve just seen, but he comes with the hunger of someone who is really passionate about their job and wants to succeed in it, but in the right way, which is by working hard and being humble enough to ask for help, opinions and admit his struggles."

Armie dares to glance over at Timothée once more, a smile appearing on his lips as he notices the look in his eyes. He´s clearly surprised by his choice of words, but Armie can also tell he feels proud of himself for having someone say those things about him.

"You keep this one for as long as you can, Armand, because the moment people outside these walls realize his talent, everyone is gonna come after him."

"And I´ll be glad to let him go whenever he feels like this isn't enough anymore," Armie quickly replies. "But for now, he's all mine."

"Lucky for me and all the people who will have the pleasure to have him working on their projects."

"But only you´ll have the privilege to say you were his first client," Armie adds, shaking hands with Bernard. "I´m gonna ask you to wait just a couple of minutes until my secretary brings out the new contract, where we specify everything we've discussed the last few days over email and every detail of the project itself. Is that alright? It shouldn't take longer than ten minutes."

"Take your time, Armand."

"Why don't we go grab some coffee while we wait?," Douglas lays a hand on Bernard´s back, a welcoming smile on his lips. "There´s a small coffee shop in the first floor of the building, but there's also this amazing vendor just across the street, he's out of this world."

"I´ll take that offer," he smiles before turning back to Timothée. "Thank you, Mr. Chalamet, I absolutely loved your project."

"Thank you for the opportunity, Mr. Bernard."

"I'll see you later."

"See ya."

Armie watches as his father leads Bernard out of the conference room and leans against the desk, reaching for some of the papers he has there. He flips through a couple of pages, takes one in particular and sets aside, quickly signing it. He raises his gaze when he notices Timothée´s stare, his green eyes deeply focused on him and a small smile on the corner of his lips.

"So, I´m all yours?"

Armie feels himself blushing under Timothée´s stare, the words he used just minutes ago coming back to haunt him faster than he expected. He was fully aware of the hidden meaning in between his words, and he knew there was a chance of Timothée -or anyone else in the room- picking it up, he simply didn´t expect to be confronted by it so soon.

"I was implying you belonged to our company," he tries to explain, chuckling as Timothée shoots him a look. "Seriously, I meant the company."

Timothée laughs, leaning against the desk too, only a few inches separating them. "Don´t worry, I´m just teasing you."

"Oh, thank you very much."

"Although it just occurred to me that I probably shouldn't do that to my boss."

"I like to think I'm a cool boss," Armie shrugs. "I can take some teasing."

"You know that's not why I´m saying this," Timothée nearly whispers, glancing over at Armie.

"The way I see it, no matter how professional we are, our relationship as boss and employee will never be like any other one. Something happened between us, Timothée, we can´t simply forget about it or pretend it didn't happen."

"All we can do is learn how to live with it."

"Exactly," Armie nods, glances back at Timothée and realizes just how close they truly are. With a small movement, he can land his hand on top of Timothée´s, slide his fingers through his curls and pull him closer to him. "I want you to know that I don't want you on your toes whenever you´re around me, alright? We have this thing that connects us, a secret we must keep and that inevitably changes the dynamic between us, but that doesn't mean we can´t make this dynamic a good one. I rather have you teasing me, than so embarrassed by what happened that you won't even look me in the eye."

"I think we're definitely past that."

"Good, because it was a complicated time for me," Armie admits. "It's a lot easier to be honest about what happened between us, specially because none of us actually did anything wrong."

"True," Timothée nods. "Although I might start making a little quiz before any possible hook ups from now on, just to make sure the person isn´t a potential coworker."

Armie laughs, nodding his head.

"That could be a good idea," he smiles, gently playing with the seam of his suit. Suddenly silence takes over the room, both of them staring down at their feet, unable to really look in one another's eyes. After a few seconds, Armie inhales deeply and glances back up at Timothée, his blue eyes trying their best to read into his expression, understand exactly what is going on in that head of his. "Oh, there's actually something else I´ve been meaning to talk to you about."

"What is it?"

"A new project that came up and you´ve been mentioned for it."

"You mean Anna´s brand?"

"How do you..."

"She talked to me about it earlier today, said she wanted me to be part of the team set to come up with her visual identity and marketing strategy."

"Of course she did," Armie mumbles, shaking his head. "And what did you say?"

"That I was going to think about it."

"Well, both her and my dad think you´re perfect for it."

"May I ask who else is on the team?"

"Well, you see, is more like a duo type of thing," Armie replies, a little embarrassed smile coming to his lips as Timothée stares at him, frowning for a moment, before realization hits him.

"Oh."

"Yeah," Armie nods, scratching the back of his neck. "Look, just think about it and then you can give me a proper answer."

"I'll do that," Timothée nods, a small smile on his lips as he glances around the conference room. "I should probably go now."

"You can take the rest of the day off."

"What?"

"Yeah, you earned it."

"Thanks, Armie."

"I should be the one thanking you," he chuckles. "When you look good, the whole company looks good, so really I'm just being the most selfish boss I can be by giving you these opportunities."

Timothée chuckles, nodding his head. 

"Either way, you gave me a chance to prove myself when you could have easily turned me down, so yeah, thank you."

"You´re welcomed," Armie smiles and watches in silence as Timothée walks out of the conference room, giving one last glance at him before he closes the door.

* * *

  
  


Night has fallen and the rain has stopped, the city lights illuminating the streets. Up at the penthouse, the lights are off but there´s soft music playing, the curtains blowing as the breeze comes in from the open doors to the patio. Sitting in one of the lounge chairs, a glass of Scotch in a hand and a book on the other, Armie sips on his drink as he flips through pages, trying to keep himself focused on his reading.

It's easier said than done though, because when he's not lost in thoughts about the little moment he shared with Timothée back at the conference room after they were left alone, he is thinking of all the work he still has to do deal with this week or even worse, he is feeling in his body the pressure of days of nonstop work and stress.

He takes another big gulp, the burning sensation in his throat a much needed distraction at the moment, just like the sound of the elevator doors opening. Without even looking to the side, aware Anna is pretty much the only person allowed in -or that has the elevator code for that matter.

"Good night, brother," she says rather cheerfully, stopping by the kitchen to pour herself a drink.

"Good night," he leans back on the chair, a frown on his face when he notices her outfit and high heels. "All that just to see your old brother? I'm flattered, but some leggings and a sweater would do."

"Funny," she rolls her eyes, tucking a couple of strands of hair behind her ear as she crosses the penthouse and leans against the doorframe to the patio, her red lips curved into a sly smile. "So, do you plan on spending the rest of your night with that glass of Scotch and a book in your hand or you're actually interested in having some fun?"

"Who says reading a book isn't fun?"

"C´mon, Armie, you really don't want to spend yet another night stuck in this apartment, do you?"

"It´s a pretty great apartment and I just found out the porn channel is open for the next twenty four hours."

"That's gross," she shakes her head and Armie laughs, taking yet another sip of his drink, his eyes following Anna as she walks past him and sits down on the chair beside him. "Seriously, I´m going out for a couple of drinks and would love it if my big brother joined me."

"It's Wednesday, Anna, I have to be up early tomorrow."

"And who's stopping you from doing so?," she shrugs, finishing up her glass of Scotch. "It's seven thirty, we can go out, have a couple of drinks, listen to some music and be back home by midnight. That´ll give you enough time to sleep, right?"

"You sound like the devil on my shoulder."

"Or am I the angel who is here to save you? You know you deserve some time for yourself, so just get your ass up from that chair, put on some nice clothes and let's have some fun."

Armie wrinkles his nose, his eyes on Anna as she looks at him hopeful, the smile in her lips only growing. He sighs, almost mad at himself for not being able to say no to her and nods slowly, chuckling as she squeals and dances in her seat, her blonde hair waving from side to side. He pushes himself up, finishes his Scotch and groans, shaking his head at the bitter taste that's left in his mouth.

"Give me a few minutes to get changed," he says, handing her the glass. He turns on his heels and takes a couple of steps further into the apartment, but stops abruptly, glancing at her over his shoulder. "I hope to God you´re not playing any games with me here, Anna."

"And what kind of games would I...," she stops mid sentence, rolls her eyes and leans back on the lounge chair, pushing her hair to the side. "Don´t worry, Timothée is hanging out with Jack and Chloe to celebrate his first client meeting going so well. Jack said they´ll stay at his apartment, order a pizza and have a couple beers, so you don't have to worry, I don't plan on locking you two in a room or anything like that."

"I wouldn't push that past you, to be honest."

"I´m not that basic, Armand."

"You can be quite basic, Anastasia."

"Seriously?," she asks in a serious tone, her blue locked on her brother, who simply laughs. "You know I hate being called that."

"Do you? I never noticed," he shrugs, laughing as he walks to his bedroom, opening his closet to go through his clothes. He reaches for a pair of black jeans and a simple white t-shirt, which he quickly puts it on, then turning his attention to the last row in his closet, where all his shoes are. "Where exactly are we going?"

"Jack took me to this really nice bar in Brooklyn the last time we went out, I thought it could be a nice place for us to go. There´s a band, nice drinks and even appetizers," she screams from the living room. "How does that sound to you, Mr. Grumpy?"

"Whatever you want."

"Can you at least pretend to be excited about this brother and sister night we´re about to have?," she asks, just as the bedroom door opens. She turns around, arms crossed as she looks him up and down, a little smirk on the corner of her lips. "Well, don´t you clean up nicely?"

"So I´ve been told," he smirks and slides to the side as she throws a pillow in his direction. "Are we going or what?"

"Yes, we are," she says and rushes over to him, taking his hand in hers and leading him towards the elevator. "We better leave before you change your mind, I know how fickle you can be."

"I´m the fickle one?," he smirks, watching as the elevator doors close. "Yeah, right, let's go with that."

* * *

  
  


Timothée kicks the fridge door closed, opens a bottle of beer with his teeth and spits the lid over to the sink, turning on his heels the minute there's a knock on the door to his apartment. He smiles, takes a couple of sips and crosses the apartment´s living room, unlocking the door to reveal his friends standing there. He frowns, his eyes moving up and down their bodies, noticing Chloe is wearing a long skirt and boots, her hair curled and a lot of makeup in her eyes; while Jackson is on his best jeans and a brown leather jacket, which accentuates his muscles.

"Aren't you guys a little bit overdressed for pizza night?"

"About that," Chloe says, glancing quickly at Jackson, who shrugs. "There was a change of plans."

"There was?"

Jackson nods, walking past Timothée, making sure to take his beer in his hand on the process. He sips on it, throws himself down on the couch and sets his feet up on the coffee table.

"This is a very important day, you just got through your first client meeting, we thought a simple pizza night wasn't enough to celebrate the brilliance of today."

"Okay," Timothée says, slightly confused.

"In other words," Chloe slides a hand over his shoulder. "We´re going out and having some proper fun, alright?"

"You guys do remember I have class tomorrow morning and I also have work in the afternoon, right?"

"A couple drink and some good music won't kill you, Chalamet."

Timothée bites his lip, trying to suppress a smile, but fails miserably. He was feeling so goddamn good with himself after the meeting with Mr. Bernard, he deserved to go out and have some fun with his friends, celebrate his accomplishment -which could be something so small to some, but so important to him- the way he deserved.

"Okay, you guys might have a point."

"Of course we have," Jackson jumps up, finishing up the beer before shooing Timothée over to his bedroom. "Now, why don't you go get dressed so we can go?"

"Where are we going?"

"Tess is playing at this bar in Brooklyn, she said we could stop by if we wanted," she shrugs, leaning back against the wall. "What you guys say?"

"Sounds good to me."

"Then it´s settled," Jackson claps his hands, shooting Timothée a look. "Now, if you could just start getting dressed that would help us a lot, because I know it's gonna take you at least half an hour."

"Jesus, what´s got you today? All of that just because your girlfriend isn't with you tonight?," Timothée smirks while taking a few steps back to his bedroom. "Or is she joining us later?"

"Last time I talked to her she said she was going to try and force her brother out of the penthouse tonight."

"How many books you guys think I'll have to sell so one day one of you can try and force me out of my penthouse?"

Timothée cocks an eyebrow, leans against the doorframe of his bedroom and glances at Jackson, who´s already laughing his ass off.

"How about the book store?"

"And then two or three more?"

"You guys couldn´t at least humor me?"

"We could, but we rather not," Timothée shrugs, twirling around. "Now, let me get dressed before Jackson has a fit."

* * *

  
  


Armie sits back on the chair, his fingers tapping on the table to the rhythm of the song, his eyes locked on the band that plays in the little stage just a few feet away from them. He smiles as the guitar player, who´s clearly much into his head, does a little spin, rocking out as if he's in a huge stadium, with thousands of people screaming his name. He chuckles, glances over at Anna and notices her fingers moving frantically on the phone and judging by the little smile on her lips, she's clearly texting Jackson.

"Did you force me out of the house just so you could spend the whole night texting your boyfriend?"

"I barely talked to him today, alright? And this is the first text I sent him ever since I picked you up at your place, Armand."

"You´ve been stuck on that phone for minutes now, Anna."

"Oh, fuck off."

He laughs, rolls his eyes and pushes himself up, leaning against her chair so he can whisper on her ear. "I´m gonna go grab another drink, is there anything you want?"

"Just a beer, thanks."

"Okay," he nods, walking across the crowd to the bar, where he leans against it while waiting for one of the bartenders to attend him. He raises his hand, catches the attention of one of the guys and smiles as he walks over to him, running his fingers through his dark and luscious hair, in his lips a smile that clearly has second intentions.

"What can I get you?"

"Two Heinekens, please."

"Just a second."

Armie nods, turns around so he can look at the band and slowly bobs his head to the beat, quite surprised at the band's stage presence, even if the guitar player still looks a bit over the top. He feels a tap on his shoulder and turns around, pays for the beers and thanks the bartender, who stealthily slides a little piece of paper towards him. Armie smiles, bites his lip and turns on his heels, walking back to the table.

"Here it is," he slides the beer over to Anna as he sits down beside her, stretching his legs under the table. "Done talking to your boyfriend?"

"Yes, I am," she says matter of factly, raising an eyebrow as she notices the piece of paper in his hands. "And what is that in your hand, mister?"

"The bartender gave me his number," he explains while unfolding the paper, a little smirk on his face as he sees the guy´s name and number written there. "He's kind of hot."

"Oh. Is Mr. Armand Douglas Hammer actually planning on going out with someone new tonight? I thought after the whole thing with Tim you´d give a break on...," she trails off, her face turning tense as Armie stares at her slightly confused.

"What?"

"I don´t want you to freak out, nor to think this has anything to do with me, but..."

"Anna, what the fuck are you...," Armie questions with a frown. He follows her gaze and bites his lip, watching as Timothée stands about two feet away from them. As Anna glances at him, Armie simply sighs, not sure if he should be amused or irritated with the way life seems to be throwing them in the same place every single chance it gets.


	17. I´ve Got A Pocket Full Of Kryptonite

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> There´s nothing subtle here

The night is calm and pleasantly warm, a big contrast to the afternoon of rain and cloudy sky. Walking down the street, Timothée has his hands in the pocket of his jacket, his curls bouncing with each step he takes as he laughs at yet another one of Chloe´s marvellous stories, her days at the bookstore always offering them something to talk about. 

He glances at Jackson, who's been quiet for a few minutes by now, his eyes locked on his phone as he keeps typing. It doesn't take a genius to know he's texting Anna, the smile on his face quite typical of when she's around or he's talking about her. He smirks, nudges Chloe gently and gestures towards Jackson, laughing as Chloe simply rolls her eyes.

"Don´t you two have anything better to do than mock me behind my back?," he suddenly says, catching Timothée and Chloe off guard. "What? You guys didn't think I´d notice? Neither one of you is as sneaky as you'd like to think you are."

"Fine, you caught us," Timothée mocks desperation, earning a little side glance from Jackson, which makes him shrug. "So, why on earth do you and Anna decide to spend the night away from one another if all you´re gonna do is text each other the entire time? Wouldn't it be easier to just invite her over?"

"I did say she could come with us, but like I said before, she's hanging out with her brother for the night and somehow I thought you wouldn't be exactly keen on spending the night at a bar with your boss," he shrugs, turns around so he can face Timothée and smirks. "You know, I thought it might bring back some memories."

"Wow, how thoughtful of you."

"I like to think that's my biggest quality as a friend."

"Fuck off," Timothée rolls his eyes, but laughs as Jackson does a little dance before turning back around and pointing over to a neon sign, indicating the bar they had decided to go. "It looks like it's crowded."

"It's always crowded when there's live music," Chloe explains, tucking her hair behind her ear. "And Tess was telling everyone in our classes about the gig here tonight, so I guess she managed to attract quite the crowd."

"She's great live."

"She really is," Timothée says while following Jackson inside the bar, his eyes immediately moving around the place, catching a glimpse of quite a few familiar faces, most of them from campus. He looks over at the band, smiles as he sees Tess rocking out with her bandmates and then turns to Chloe, who has a proud smile on her face as she watches her friend on the stage. He's about to take another step forward when he bumps into Jackson, who´s stopped all of a sudden. "What's wrong?"

"You know how the other day I said your love life kind of resembles a soap opera lately?," he asks and Timothée hums while nodding his head. "Well, it seems like today´s chapter is quite an interesting one."

Timothée frowns, but follows Jackson´s gaze to find Armie and Anna sitting at a table nearby, their eyes locked on them already. He sighs, runs his fingers through his hair and glances back at Jackson, who looks down at him with a frown.

"I hope you know I have absolutely nothing to do with this, alright?"

"I sure hope not."

"What's going on? Why did you two just...," Chloe trails off as she spots Anna, her eyes lingering on her for a second before she turns her attention to the man beside her, which she swiftly recognizes as Armie. "Well, would you look at that?"

"I know I should've stayed home."

"I thought things were already getting better between the two of you," Chloe muses, leaning her arm on Timothée's shoulder.

"And they are, but I doubt we´re ready for a night out together."

"Well, we´re about to figure that out," Jackson mumbles as he watches Anna make her way over, a smile on her lips as she leans in, pecking his lips. "What a surprise."

"Yeah, I thought you guys were staying home for the night."

"We were, but these two here convinced me this was a better way to celebrate my meeting going well."

"And they are right," she smiles, giving Timothée a hug. "C´mon, why don't you guys sit down with us?"

"What? No, we don't want to interrupt you guys."

"Timothée, I´m having a couple of drinks with my brother, you guys are not interrupting anything."

"Right," Timothée mumbles, following her back to the table, his eyes locked on Armie, who gets up the moment they approach. He bites his lip, trying his best not to pay much attention to the casual way Armie´s dressed, which resembles the clothes he was wearing the night they met.

"You´ve met Jackson already," Anna says while Armie and Jackson shake hands quickly. "And this is Chloe, she´s also at Columbia and works at this incredible bookstore not that far from the company."

"My dream when I was growing up was to work in a bookstore," Armie admits while reaching his hand out for Chloe, who eagerly takes it, a wide smile on her lips and in her eyes a look that screams she's about to say something she shouldn't. "You must have a lot of fun there."

"Sometimes, there are days the place is just plain boring," she shrugs. "But I have to say, I´m really pleased to finally meet you. You have become quite the celebrity in our little group of friends."

"I have?," Armie asks, raising an eyebrow.

"Well yeah, I mean with Jackson dating your sister and Timothée working for you, it's almost impossible to have a conversation without your name being brought up lately."

"Shut the fuck up," Timothée mumbles while nudging her on the ribs. 

"Well, I can only hope there are good things you guys are talking about."

"Only the best, trust me."

Armie smirks, nodding his head as his eyes move to Timothée, who feels his cheeks burning in embarrassment. If he could, he would sink his head into the floor or disappear never to come back again. Much to his despair, he couldn't do either and so he sits beside Chloe on one of the empty chairs, causing him and Armie to be right across one another, their eyes constantly finding one another.

"What do you guys want to drink? My brother here has made a little friend at the bar already and I'm sure the guy wouldn't mind giving him a few free drinks."

Timothée frowns, his eyes immediately moving to the crowded bar, trying to figure out which one of the bartenders would be the one that had caught Armie´s eyes. He bites his lip, thinks how silly he looks right now, being jealous of a random man, who might as well just be made up by Anna to annoy her brother and tries to relax, after all that is exactly what the night was all about.

  
  


* * *

It took exactly five minutes for Armie and Timothée to be left alone at the table, music filling the air as their companions were off either making out or dancing with strangers. Sitting face to face, they sipped on their drinks, tapped their fingers to the rhythm of the song and casually exchanged a couple of words, most of them about work and the meeting with Mr. Bernard earlier in the day. Despite their conversation almost a week ago easing out the tension that had been installed in between them, being back at a bar together sure brought back memories to the both of them, which made things a little less organic at the beginning.

After a while though, they managed to ease out the tension, expanding their conversation to more than just the four walls of the agency's office. They shared inputs on the band's lineup, discussed the way Chloe´s orange hair seemed like a beacon of light in the middle of the dance floor and even shared a laugh as they mocked the way Anna tried -miserably, as Armie himself put it- to get Jackson to dance.

By the time their friends had returned to the table, Armie felt like him and Timothée were two completely different people than they were when the night began. Their easy talk and laughter resembled more the way they were around each other earlier that day at the conference room, when Timothée was teasing Armie and they simply allowed themselves to be around one another without fear.

Now as he exits a stall, he glances around the empty bathroom and walks to the sink, washing his hands as his eyes find his reflection in the mirror. His hair is slightly messy, his beard in need of a trim, but truly the only thing he can think of while standing there is the fact that about two weeks ago he was standing in a bathroom much like that, with his hands sliding across Timothée´s body and their lips connected.

He sighs, shakes his head and reaches for a paper towel, drying off his hands before walking out of the bathroom. He stands by the door, noticing how the place gets crowded with each passing minute, mostly by college kids from the neighborhood. He runs his fingers through his hair, glances over at their table, where Chloe and Anna talk and laugh, then turns on his heels, heading in the opposite direction.

He leans against the counter, his fingers tapping against it while he waits for someone to direct him some attention. He waves at one of the bartenders, who doesn't even glance at him and groans, suddenly reminding himself the one thing he hates about bars.

"If someone like you can´t get their attention, how can people expect us mere mortals to?"

Although he doesn´t need to, since he could recognize Timothée´s voice pretty much anywhere, Armie glances to the side. He notices the small smile on the corner of his lips, his green eyes staring directly at him with a hint of humor. He stares back at him for a few seconds, simply contemplating the sight, before a smile starts to form on his lips as well.

"Didn´t your sister say you had found yourself a new friend here at the bar?"

"My sister says a lot of things," Armie scoffs, shaking his head. "And while she wasn't exactly lying about that, I am pretty much sure most of these guys that are still working are straight, so I doubt my charm would work on any of them."

"I don´t know," Timothée shrugs. "Gossip around the office says that everyone has had a crush on you at some point, even the straight guys."

"And who told you that? Megan?"

"Maybe."

Armie chuckles, shaking his head.

"A piece of advice, don´t trust everything Megan and Anna say, alright?"

"Noted," he nods, leaning his elbows against the wooden counter, his eyes scanning the shelves with over a hundred bottles of alcohol. As a bartender glances in his direction, Timothée stands up straight, waving his hands frantically until he approaches them. "Finally."

"What can I get you?"

"Rum and Coke for me and a...," he glances at Armie, cocking an eyebrow.

"A Heineken, please."

"Okay, I´ll be back in a second."

"Is that your go to beer?," Timothée asks and Armie frowns, looking down at him.

"One of my favorites. Why?"

"You ordered one the night we met."

"Oh," Armie scoffs, nodding his head slowly. "Can´t believe you would remember that."

"I remember pretty much everything about that night."

"Right," Armie mumbles, biting his lip.

"Sorry, I shouldn't have said that."

"It's okay," he smiles, a hand landing on top of Timothée´s in reassurance. "We´re not pretending it didn´t happen any longer, remember?"

Timothée simply nods, a small smile on the corner of his lips and on his cheeks a faint blush, which much to his luck is nearly imperceptible under the dark light.

"But just so you know, I like my Heineken, but I will basically have anything anyone offers me."

"A risk taker."

"Some would say so," he smiles, thanks the bartender when he hands him his beer and takes a few sips of it, his eyes glancing back at Timothée, who by now is leaned against the counter, eyes wandering through the bar. He bites his lip, attentive to every little move he makes, even the smallest of expressions. 

Everything about Timothée affects Armie, from the way his curls fall down his forehead, to the wrinkles around his eye when he smiles and the gentle curve of his lips. He´s kryptonite, all colors combined, leaving Armie completely helpless.

"Thank you." 

He snaps out of his thoughts to the sound of his voice and clears his throat, glancing over to see him take the glass of Rum and Coke from the bartender´s hand. He smiles down at him and gestures over to the table as Timothée nods.

"So, what else has Megan told you?"

  
  


* * *

The bar only seems to get even more cramped as the hours pass, the music loud and the smell of booze nearly intoxicating. Standing by the wall near the bathroom, at least a dozen more men queueing in before him, Timothée sighs, checking his watch for what seems like the hundredth time in the three minutes he is standing there. His eyes scan the bar, a little smile on the corner of his lips as he finds Jackson and Anna in the middle of the crowd, her arms wrapped around his neck as they sway from side to side.

There are so many contrasts between them, so many differences and yet, they are one of the most beautiful couples Timothée has ever seen and the smile on their faces whenever they are together is something he covets to have one day. Or maybe he has already found the person who makes him smile like that, the only problem is that it seems like life itself wasn't very keen on making their relationship any easier. 

He sighs, shakes his head and keeps on watching the place, noticing Chloe is leaned against the wall, sharing a drink with some random girl, which gently plays with her orange hair. He cocks an eyebrow, waves timidly as she catches his gaze and stands straight when she runs over to him, dodging all the people that cross her way.

"Hey," he says, gesturing over to the girl Chloe was talking to, who remains in the same place, watching them. "Who's that?"

"That´s Kim," she says, biting her lip. "She just invited me over to her house to have a couple of drinks and...."

"And?"

"And talk."

"That's what you call it now?," he smirks, crossing his arms as Chloe rolls her eyes. "It´s been a while since you´ve gone out with a girl."

"I know, which makes me slightly worried I might not know what to do."

"I don´t think you can forget this kind of stuff, Chloe."

"You never know," she shrugs. "You´ve been avoiding every single man that has come close to you since you fucked Armie, maybe in a few weeks you´re gonna forget how to give the perfect blow job."

"Disgusting."

"You forgetting about blow jobs?"

"Oh no, not that, you."

"Funny," she sticks her tongue out, glances back at Kim and smiles, fixing her dress. "I´m gonna head out now, you gonna be okay here on your own?"

"I´m not on my own, Jackson and Anna are here."

"Yeah, because they are super interested in the rest of us, right?"

"Well," Timothée frowns, trying to spot his friend again, but fails to do so, which makes him slightly worried. "Is there a chance they just ditched us?"

"I'll say that's more than possible."

Timothée groans, checks the queue once again and then shrugs. 

"It doesn't matter, I should be getting home soon anyway."

"You want me to stay here with you a little longer?"

"No, go get your girl. I´ll try to get in the bathroom and then call an Uber, don´t worry."

"You sure?"

"Yes, mom, I'm sure."

"Okay, call or text if you need anything."

"Will do," he gives her a quick hug, then watches as she happily walks back to Kim, who waves at him before heading out of the bar with Chloe. He turns back to the bathroom, shakes his head as he notices the queue has barely moved ever since he got there and simply walks away, hands in his pockets as he moves across the room and peeks into the women's bathroom, noticing the line is just as big as the one in the men´s.

He groans, heads back to the table they were all previously sitting and finds it empty, only a bowl of pistachios left on it. He bites his lip, plumps down on the chair and crosses his arms, green eyes moving to watch the band, who's playing some old hits at the moment. He hears someone clear their throat and glances up, surprised to see Armie standing there.

"Oh hi, I thought everyone had left already."

"I was just about to," Armie explains, leaning against one of the vacant chairs. "You want a ride?"

"No, that won't be necessary," he shakes his head, a little smile on his lips. "I'll get myself an Uber."

"We´re going the same direction, Timothée."

"I know, but I don't want to disturb you in any way."

"I'm offering you a ride, I wouldn't do it if I thought it would be a hassle of any kind."

"Are you sure?"

"Yes," Armie smiles, but then quickly frowns. "Unless you don't want to ride with me, of course, I can understand that."

"No, that´s...," Timothée shakes his head and pushes himself up, patting his jeans to make sure his phone and wallet are in his pockets. "I just don't want to bother you."

"You never bother me," Armie assures him and gestures for Timothée to follow him, which he does in silence, his green eyes furtively traveling up and down his back, stopping just around his ass, which looks incredible in his jeans. "I probably should have asked you first if you´re okay with motorcycles."

"What?," Timothée asks slightly confused, his eyes going wide as he follows Armie´s gaze and finds his motorcycle parked on the other side of the street, the black machine shining under the moonlight. "Oh."

"Would you feel better taking that Uber?"

"No, it's all good," he bites his lip, trying to control a smile. "I actually always wanted to get on a motorcycle, just never had the chance."

"Never?"

"My mom wouldn't allow me when I was growing up because she thought it was too dangerous, then I barely got around to getting my driver's license and none of my friends ever had one, so yeah, never had the chance."

"Well, I´m glad to be the one to change that."

Timothée looks at Armie, noticing the little smirk on his face before he turns around, glances down the street and crosses it in a quick stride. He watches him for a minute, his brain erasing everything else that is going on around him; Armie is all there is in the world right now, Armie and his motorcycle, which looks incredible. He bites his lip, pushes his curls back and rushes across the street, joining Armie beside the motorcycle, his hand gently tracing it.

"Here you go," he hands him a helmet and with one swift move hops on the motorcycle, fixing his own helmet. Armie turns the motorcycle on, glances over his shoulder at him and cocks an eyebrow, a little smile on the corner of his lips. "You good with that?"

"Huh?," Timothée asks, slightly confused for a second, but nods repeatedly once he realizes he is talking about the helmet in his hand. He puts it on, fastens the strap under his chin and reaches out for Armie´s shoulder, resting his hand on it so he can swing a leg over the motorcycle and hop on it. 

The whole scene seems a bit surreal, his heart beating incredibly faster as he finds himself sitting behind Armie, their bodies close enough for him to smell his cologne and his hair. He licks his lips, sits up straight and holds onto the handles on each side of the leather seat, trying his very best not to make a fool of himself.

"You said you never rode a motorcycle before, right?"

"Right."

"Then I suggest you hold onto me instead of those handles."

"I'm fine."

"If you say so," Armie answers after a second and Timothée can see the little cheeky grin on his face as he speeds up, riding down the street and past the cars at incredible speed. He gulps, steadies himself and quickly reaches out to wrap his arms around Armie´s waist, his chest pressed against his hard back, his smell even more intense now. "Changed your mind?"

Timothée simply rolls his eyes and judging by the laugh that escapes from Armie, he managed to catch that through the mirrors. He blushes, looking down until he knows his cheeks aren't burning any longer and then smiles, watching as New York passes him by, the lights mixing together, the people around them just blurs. As they keep going, Timothée finds himself tightening his grip around Armie, feeling the warmth of his body against his, the muscles in his back contracting whenever he makes a different move.

If it was possible, he would freeze time, slow things down so he could be trapped there with Armie for hours, days even. Sadly, he lacks the power for that and when he least expects, Armie is already slowing down and eventually stops right in front of his building, which is mostly dark at this time of night. He sighs, slides his hand over to Armie´s shoulder and sits up straight, staring at the building for a good minute.

"Did you make it alright?"

Armie´s voice brings Timothée back to reality and when he glances over his shoulder to look at him, he smiles, nodding his head.

"Yeah, I did," he holds tightly onto his shoulder, using him as support as he hops off. He takes off the helmet, hands it back to Armie and sighs, sliding his hands down to his pockets. "Thank you for the ride, Armie."

"No problem, I´m glad I could be of assistance."

"You saved me from minutes of waiting for an Uber that would most likely cancel my ride a couple of times before showing up," as Armie chuckles, Timothée smiles. "Anyway, I should probably get inside. I have a long day waiting for me tomorrow."

"Right."

"Good night, Armie," he says, taking a couple of steps backwards before turning to face the gate, which he is just about to open when Armie calls out his name. "What?"

"I really enjoyed your company tonight," Timothée gulps, bites his lip as he tries to think of something to say. "I'll see you tomorrow."

"See ya."

Timothée remains in place for a moment more, watching as Armie drives away, becoming just a shadow in the quiet Wednesday night. He makes it inside, closes the gate behind him and can´t help the face hurting smile that suddenly spreads across his lips, his hands still warm from gripping so tightly onto Armie. He shakes his head, lets out a sigh and heads inside, rushing up the stairs to his floor. He fumbles with his keys, mumbling a song as he unlocks the door, his eyes sparkling with joy and any trace of tiredness that he could have gone like magic. 

He kicks the door close, locks it behind him and goes straight to the kitchen, pouring himself a glass of water before making it to his bedroom, taking off his clothes and tossing them to the armchair by the desk. He grabs some old shorts and a torn shirt, puts it on and climbs in bed, his phone in hand as he stares out of the window. He glances down at his phone after a moment, scrolling through a couple of his messages, one of them from Chloe, received just a few minutes ago.

**_< chloe>_ ** _ did u make it home? _

**_< timothee>_ ** _ done with ur girl already? _

**_< chloe>_ ** _ none of ur business _

_.... _

_ so did u make it home alright? _

**_< timothee>_ ** _ yeah _

_ armie gave me a ride _

**_< jackson>_ ** _ excuse me? _

**_< timothee>_ ** _ oh there u r _

As the messages keep on coming, Timothée chuckles, but chooses to ignore them all, tossing his phone into the bedside table as he slides down on the bed, pulling the covers on top of him, his smile unable to disappear as he closes his eyes, in his nose Armie´s scent still present.

* * *

  
  


It´s a sunny morning in New York city, the clouds have disappeared from the sky and the birds are chirping happily. At the patio, with his shirt already damp in sweat, Armie keeps his eyes focused on the punching bag, hitting punch after punch, the muscles of his arms burning with the intensity of the work out. 

He had a rather sleepless night, tossing and turning from one side to the other, blue eyes wide open and staring into the ceiling as he went through the night over and over again. His conversation with Timothée was one of the most laid backs they had ever since he got hired, they were able to strip down from all the awkwardness and tension, talk like old friends would do and still find time to share a laugh.

And if that wasn´t enough, having Timothée pressed against his back as he rode him home had Armie nearly making a mistake. All he wanted was to stop his motorcycle, turn around and cradle Timothée´s face in his hands, kiss him passionately as if there was no tomorrow. But he couldn´t, so he held back, kept telling himself he was his boss, that all they could ever be was just friends. And if he was completely honest with himself, there was a chance that even a friendship was too close to comfort for him.

So once he woke up, after a good four hour sleep, and found himself hard and horny, Armie decided to unload all the pressure on the punching bag, which now swings back and forth from the ceiling, Armie´s fist leaving temporary marks on the fabric. He sighs, wipes up the sweat from his forehead and reaches for his water bottle, gulping down on the cool water until he can hardly breath.

He takes a few steps back, plows down on the longue chairs and inhales deeply, pushing some of the stray blond locks behind. Since day one, Armie´s been trying to lie to himself, believe that this whole thing with Timothée was nothing more than just a whim, that the only reason why he was so caught up on him, was because he couldn't have him. But every time he thought back about his conversation with Matthew, or the day Anna confronted him about his feelings, Armie realizes that there's no use lying to himself the way he is doing.

He is in love with Timothée and he doesn't know how to deal with it, because while his brain knows he should keep his distance, his heart begs him to be close to Timothée at every single second he possibly can. 

"Fuck," he mumbles, pushes himself up and walks back inside the penthouse, taking his phone in the kitchen counter on his way to the bedroom. He scrolls through it, clicks on Megan´s name and presses the phone to his ear, waiting until she picks up.

"Good morning, boss. What can I help you with this fine morning?"

"Hey, I´m not gonna be at the office today."

"Is everything alright?"

"Yeah, I´m just gonna work from home in the morning and then I have a meeting with Leslie in the afternoon. I might stop by after lunch to grab a few papers though, but if anything happens don't hesitate to call me, alright?"

"Yeah, don´t worry," she quickly replies, her voice slightly different than normal. "Are you sure you´re alright, Armie?"

"Yes, Megan, I´m alright. I just had a few drinks last night and don't really feel like spending my morning stuck in that office."

"Got it, you want lots of fresh coffee and a view that is to die for, right?"

"Right, maybe this way I can get some work done."

"Okay, I´ll make sure everything is up and running around here."

"I have all the faith in you."

"I know you do."

"See you later."

"See you."

He hangs up the phone, tosses it to the bed and takes off his clothes, throwing them across the bedroom as he makes his way to the bathroom. He turns on the shower, the cold water hitting his back and immediately relaxing his muscles. He closes his eyes, inhales deeply and allows himself to get lost in his thoughts, his hand slowly running down his wet body all the way to his cock, which quickly responds to the touch.

  
  
  


* * *

Timothée is barely out of bed when he hears the knock on the door, a frown forming on his forehead as he drags himself out of the bedroom and across the living room. He scratches his butt, slides his fingers through his messy curls and yawns as he unlocks the door, even more confused when he finds Jackson and Chloe standing there, backpacks on their hands as they each lean to one side of the threshold.

He stands there for a moment, then takes a step back, opening the door wider for them to walk in. Once he closes the door, he turns on his heels, leaning into his left leg as he crosses his arms, his eyes locked on his friends, who stare at him just as intensely.

"Am I missing something here? Why the fuck are you two here so early in the morning, and, most importantly, why are you looking at me as if you´re waiting for me to confess to murder?"

"We were going to wait until you got to campus," Chloe starts, walking over to the kitchen and turning on the coffee machine, her eyes wandering through the shelves and cabinets. "But then we figured we might as well stop by."

"And what is so important you couldn't wait until I got to campus?"

"I think you know," Jackson crosses his arms, plows down on the couch and sets his feet up on the coffee table, his eyes following Timothée as he walks to the kitchen, joining Chloe.

"I do?," he asks confused, opening the fridge and taking cheese and ham out of it. He then turns to the cupboards, reaches for the top shelf and takes a package of loaf, tossing it to the counter as it finally hits him. He glances at Chloe, then at Jackson and eventually bursts out laughing, shaking his head. "Oh, you guys wanted to know what happened with Armie last night."

"Exactly," they said in unison.

"Lord, you two are ridiculous."

"Yeah yeah yeah, cut the crap and just tell us what happened," Chloe hands him the mugs, leans against the sink and watches as he shrugs his shoulder. "C´mon, don´t be a tease."

"There´s not really much to say, guys. You both left, I thought I was alone and went back to the table we were sitting, he showed up all of a sudden and said he was about to leave. He offered me a ride, I tried to refuse, but he insisted on it so I eventually said yes and he drove me here on his motorcycle."

"He's got a motorcycle?," Chloe asks and Timothée nods, a little smirk on his face. "That guy gets hotter with every new piece of information I know about him."

"Imagine how I feel," he chuckles, hopping into a stool, his legs swinging back and forth. "I have to admit, it was quite amazing to ride with him. The wind blowing in my face, the buildings passing us by in a rush, my body pressed against his and his intoxicating smell. It was... I don't even have the right words to explain."

"Did something happen?"

Timothée glances at Jackson, who's pushing himself up from the couch, and shakes his head.

"No, nothing happened. This time he didn't even give me the satisfaction of thinking something could happen, he simply said good night and drove away. But still, it was almost better than the other night, you know? That night there was an awkwardness as we talked about what had happened between us, but last night was all about us enjoying the moment we were in."

"Sounds nice," Jackson smiles, leaning against the counter. 

"And it was," Timothée sighs, resting his chin against his palm. "Sadly for me, at the end of the day he's still my boss and I can´t really do much to change the situation we are in."

"Tiny victories?," Jackson shrugs, earning a little chuckle from Timothée. "I mean, think about everything that has happened ever since you met him, alright? You thought he wouldn´t hire you because of that night you spent together, but he rose above that and did it anyway, because he knew you were the perfect person for the job. Then within a week in the company, you scored an awesome project, through which you get to showcase all your talent. And if that wasn´t enough, you guys actually managed to get past the awkwardness of this whole situation. I saw you two talking by the bar last night, laughing together and judging by what Anna has told me, I´m pretty sure he doesn't give every employee a ride on his motorcycle."

"I know I should be glad with what I got, it's just...," he shrugs, letting out a loud sigh. "I´m in love with him and it's hard knowing that nothing will ever happen between us."

"How many times will I have to tell you that you gotta stop saying this?"

"Chloe, I know you´re all about being optimistic, but trust me, nothing is gonna happen between us."

"Wanna bet?"

"No, I don´t wanna bet," Timothée laughs, shaking his head. "I do want to have some breakfast and you guys are distracting me, so let's just forget about the six foot five handsome businessman and focus on what we got to eat, shall we?"

"We shall."

  
  


* * *

Armie strides into the office with his head down, his eyes locked on his phone and a few strands of hair falling down his forehead. He's got a backpack hanging from his right shoulder, his finger tucked onto the strap as he types something quickly, pocketing his phone straight afterwards. He stops by Megan´s desk, glances around the office for a quick second, spotting some people by the communal table and others by the window, drinking some coffee as they chat. 

He then finds Timothée, who sits quietly at his desk, his eyes down to his drawing board. He bites his lip, memories of the previous night mixing along with his little action at the shower earlier that morning, which almost immediately brings a shiver down his spine. He sighs, smiles softly as Timothée raises his head and finds him staring at him; he waves at him and Armie does the same, turning around when he hears the sound of Megan´s heels.

"Well, look at you," she says, a bright smile on her lips as she looks him up and down, noticing the extremely casual clothes he is wearing. "Is it casual thursday and no one told me about it?"

"Shut up."

She chuckles, leaning against her desk.

"I have already sorted all the papers and files you asked me, they are at your desk. I have also sent you an email regarding those budgets you asked me, the top venue seems like the one that fits your requirements better, but you´ll want to take a closer look and see if it's what you thought."

"What would I do without you in my life?"

"Let's hope you never get to find out."

"Trust me, I´ll play all my cards right and make sure you never walk away from me," he grabs her by the shoulders, brings her close and plants a kiss on her cheek. "You're my guardian angel inside this company."

"Does that mean I get a raise?"

"Wouldn't be such a bad idea," he smirks and Megan´s eyes lit up immediately. He chuckles, turns on his heels and heads to his office, closing the door behind him before walking to his desk, where he sits down. He reaches for the files Megan has separated for him, goes through each one of them and nods his head slowly, not only pleased by her work, but certain he's got everything he needs for his meeting with Leslie. 

As he leans back against his chair, stretching out his arms, Armie´s eyes land on the book by the computer, a small smile spreading across his lips. He reaches for it, slides his hand down the cover and cocks an eyebrow, remembering some of his grandfather´s words as he gave him the book many years ago. He pushes himself up, swings the backpack over his shoulder, takes the files and book with him and walks out of the office, stopping by Megan´s desk once again.

"I´m heading out now, but you can call me if anything comes up."

"No worries," she nods, crossing her arms as she leans back on the chair. "Oh, I might be staying here past the regular time, okay? I have officially started that online course and I have some things I want to work on, but I find it almost impossible to concentrate on my apartment."

"Just make sure you don't get locked up in here."

"I´ve talked to the doorman and the security guard already, they will open the door for me."

"Okay then, good luck on your work and I´ll see you tomorrow."

"See you tomorrow," she smiles. "Oh and good luck on your meeting with Leslie."

"Thank you," he shouts over his shoulder, already a couple of feet away from her. He glances at the book in his hand once again, then at Timothée, who pushes his chair back and stretches out his arms, his curls falling down his forehead. "Hey."

"Hey," he nearly whispers, tilting his head back to look him in the eye. 

"Working on the project?"

"Yeah, I'm working on a couple little things that might have stayed behind, but nothing too drastic."

"I hope not, your project is great as it is and I thought yesterday´s meeting had proved that to you."

Timothée shrugs, "there's always something we can improve, right?"

"Well, that is true," he smiles, taking the book in his hand and handing it over to Timothée, who frowns. "This book was written by my grandfather, is a great guide to graphic design and I thought you could enjoy it, take some inspiration from it."

"Oh," Timothée stares at the book, not entirely sure of what to say at the moment. He bites his lip, takes the book in his hand and analyses the cover and the first couple of pages, the look in his face making it clear he's already enamored by the graphics he sees there. "Thank you, I´ll take a look at it and give it back to you as soon as possible."

"I´m giving it to you, Timothée."

"What?"

"The book, I´m giving it to you," he explains, a little grin on his face. "I mean, it´s my grandfather´s book after all, I have unlimited access to it. You can have this one for you, I think it could help a lot now that you´re starting out your career."

"You really don't have to."

Armie nods, pressing the files against his chest. "I know, but I want to."

"Are you sure?"

"Yes," he smiles, leaning on his right leg. "You know, I´ve been wondering what was it about you that within seconds left my father so certain that you were the right person for the job, and I think I´ve finally figured out why."

Timothée raises an eyebrow. "And what is that?"

"You remind him of my grandfather. Your eagerness, your talent and your approach and passion towards the job. While I was growing up, my grandfather had already retired, but he would still sit down with my dad and discuss matters of the company, trying to come up with new ads, new ideas to captivate the public, while I sat down and just listened to them. I realized a lot of what I saw in him, I see in you too, so I figured that's what my dad saw too."

"I...wow...," Timothée bites his lip, shrugs his shoulder. "I don't even know what to say."

"You don't have to say anything, just take the book and make good use of it."

"I certainly will," he assures Armie. "Thank you."

"You´re welcome," he smiles. "See you tomorrow."

"See you tomorrow," Timothée practically whispers and Armie´s eyes lingers on him for a second more before he turns on his heels and heads to the elevator, pressing the button and waiting until the doors open. As he walks in, Armie quickly notices Megan´s eyes on him, her perfectly done eyebrows arched and her lips pressed into a thin line. He holds her gaze, notices there is something different there, but chooses to ignore it. As the door closes, secluding him from the rest of the world, Armie smiles, in his head now only the sight of Timothée staring down at the book in complete wonder.


	18. Sweet Dreams Are Made Of This

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A precious gift

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, as I said on the last Herbs & Spices, I was sick for the entire week and I'm still recovering. But because I'm stubborn and felt like I was so much better yesterday, I decided to edit this chapter and ended up deleting a big chunk of it. I had to go back to the notes I did on this (which are very few, may I add) and rewrite some scenes, so excuse me if this somehow doesn't feel like the most organic of the chapters.... But I do promise you the wait is nearly over 😉

Rain started to pour shortly after Timothée left the office, which forced him to call an Uber to make all the way back to his apartment without getting soaking wet, but also caused him to be around an hour later than usual, the traffic that usually forms whenever it rains infuriating. When the car eventually parks in front of his building, he thanks the driver, grabs his backpack and quickly hops out, running across the sidewalk to make it inside his building.

He shakes his head, a couple of droplets falling down his shirt and a shiver of cold running down his spine. He sighs, holding tighter onto his backpack as he walks up the stairs until his floor, which is quiet and mostly dark. He gets inside his apartment, locks the door behind him and immediately walks to the couch, plowing down on it as he places his backpack down.

For a moment he simply sits there, head leaned back and eyes closed, his body calming down after yet another busy day. He eventually sits up straight, kicks off his shoes and gives a quick look around the place, biting his lip as he thinks of what he could prepare for dinner, something that would keep him warm and cozy. He pushes himself up, drags himself all the way to the kitchen and opens the cupboards, smiling as he finds a box of mac´n´cheese, which he takes and immediately starts working on it.

It's only a matter of minutes until he is back at the living room, a huge bowl of mac´n´cheese and a glass of wine in his hands, which he sets down on the coffee table before climbing on the couch, fixing the cushions behind his back and pulling on the small blanket over his legs. He sighs loudly, smiles at himself and reaches for his backpack, unzipping it to take the book Armie gave him out of it. The cover is beautiful, a very thoughtful work of art and it's pretty clear someone involved in graphic design had their hands on it from start to finish. As he takes the first few bites of his mac´n´cheese, Timothée flips the book open and starts diving into it, often leaning over to reach for his wine.

He has devoured most of the book by the time he finishes his food, flipping through each page with more eagerness than the previous, marvelling in the graphics and photographs featured in it, the words speaking to him in a way he didn´t foresee. He had gone through many graphic design books and magazines, read almost every article anyone slightly more famous had written, but nothing truly came close to what this book in particular was doing to him.

He smiles when he recognizes himself the words written there, chuckles at some of the anecdotes that are featured, frowns as he stares at sketches of projects that were too ambitious to come to life or that were changed so drastically over the weeks of preparation that truly became something unrecognizable. With each page and word, Timothée finds himself more drawn to the book, the story behind it and the inspiration it can provide him.

He reaches for his glass of wine on the coffee table, takes a couple of sips of it and then lies down, pulling the blanket higher, his eyes never truly leaving the book. Armie´s grandfather had created something amazing and he was surprised with himself that he never had the chance to read this before, nor had any of his professors recommend it. This felt like something everyone who worked with art should read at least once in their lives.

He glances at the clock, sighs as he notices it's almost midnight and pushes himself up from the couch, setting the book down. He grabs his phone, scrolls through some of his messages and notifications, checks his social media and then finds himself staring at his table. His laptop is lying there, papers where he´s sketching the marketing campaign are spread all around and the book near the edge, creating a beautiful composition.

He snaps a photo of it, opens his Instagram and is about to upload it when a thought crosses his mind. He stops, bites his lip as he exits the app and opens his messages once again, scrolling until he finds Armie´s contact. Timothée can swear his hands are shaky as he hits his name and watches their conversation page come to the screen, the dreadful messages he sent after their night together still there, almost as if to haunt and mock him.

He debates for a minute whether to send the picture or not, fearful this might trigger something and change the relationship they have managed to build so far. Timothée doesn´t want to get back to awkward glances and stuttered words, he likes the fact they can now sit down together and have a drink, talk and even share a laugh without the ghost of their night together creeping in. 

But then he remembers the look in Armie´s face as he handed him the book, the sparkle that seemed to light up in his eyes when Timothée accepted it. Armie knew this book would be important to him, so there was a bigger chance of him being pleased by the photo than thinking this was a step too far.

"Screw this," he mumbles to himself and selects the photo, adding a quick message underneath it before hitting send. He smiles to himself, feels his cheeks slightly burn and then immediately locks the phone. He cleans up the coffee table, leaves the wine glass in the sink, taking only his book and phone with him to the bedroom.

Tired, but still eager to know more about what Armie´s grandfather had to say, Timothée jumps in bed with the book in his hands, turns on the bedside table light and gets cozy under the covers before he opens the book once again, a little smile on the corner of his lips as he starts noticing there are notes written all around, the handwriting so beautiful Timothée can´t help but reach out, his fingers tracing the lines gently.

  
  


* * *

Music plays low, subsiding the sound of the rain that keeps on falling outside. With the curtains wide open, the penthouse is inundated with the moonlight, which shines through the clouds and creates a beautiful, even if sometimes eerie look. Lying on the couch, Armie has a book in his hands, his eyes slowly scanning every word, taking his time to go through a story that is so captivating, he has been reading for years. He scoffs at some of the passages, finds himself shaking his head at the craziness of some things, but most of all, he rejoices in the moment of calm and peace he has found for himself.

He yawns, glances up to see it's nearly midnight and pushes himself up from the couch, the blanket falling to the ground in the process. He drags himself to the kitchen, fixing his sweatpants and goes through the cupboards until he finds the box of tea, which he takes in his hand and opens it, flipping through all the options until he finds himself one he fancies. 

He hears the elevator and frowns, looking to his left as the doors open to reveal Anna standing there, wearing sweatpants, an old pair of flip flops and her hair up in a messy bun. He leans against the counter, leaning his chin against his palm as he watches her walk in, the bags under her eyes an uncommon sight.

"Are you alright?"

"Yeah, I simply couldn't sleep."

"Wait, what?," he stands up straight, looking at his sister as if a second head had grown in her all of a sudden. "You couldn't sleep, so you drove all the way here? Are you serious right now?"

She shrugs, plowing herself down on one of the armchairs. "I walked around the house, thought of taking a swim, but it was too fucking cold for that, then I flipped through almost every single channel, trying to find something to watch, texted Jackson, but he clearly is already in deep sleep, so when nothing seemed good enough, I got my keys and decided to come here and see what you were up to."

"You are officially insane, Anna."

"Maybe a little," she leans her head back, looking at him with a small smile. "Mind making me one too?"

"Already on it," he assures her, placing the teabags in each one of the mugs, his hip pressed against the counter as he waits for the water to boil. "What´s got you unable to sleep?"

"I don´t know, I think I´m a little nervous to start production on my brand. I´ve been thinking about it a lot lately, have sketched many different outfits and have looked online for all these possible places where I can open the physical store. I think I'm finally starting to understand what you and dad go through every single day and it's making me rather tired, but at the same time unable to fully relax."

"Trust me, I know the feeling a little bit too well."

As the kettle whistles, indicating the water has reached boiling point, Armie pushes himself off of the counter and walks to the stove, turning off the fire before carefully taking the kettle in his hand. He pours each of them a generous dose, watches as the water slowly becomes a slightly red tone and adds a bit of sugar, taking both mugs with him to the living room.

He stops when he notices Anna sitting straight on the armchair, his phone in her hand and her blue eyes staring at him so intensely, he thinks she might end up burning a hole on his shirt. He frowns, confused as to what is going on, but hands her the mug anyway, taking his phone back from her, who sighs.

"Mind telling me why Timothée is sending you a message at midnight?"

"What?," he asks, sets the mug down and immediately unlocks his phone, biting his lip as he notices the notification from Timothée on the top of the screen. His finger hovers on top of the screen, his heart suddenly beating faster, the memories of the last time he had a message from Timothée coming back like a ton of bricks. 

Back then neither one of them really knew who the other one was, but they both seemed eager to find out, dive deeper into whatever had sparkled between them inside that bar, inside that bathroom. Strangely, things had changed quite drastically and while back then there was a prospect of more wild nights of sweaty bodies rubbing against one another, now it seemed they would have to settle for bonding over work and their taste for books.

He eventually clicks on the message, holding his breath until it loads and he sees a photograph of his grandfather´s book, which now lies on Timothée´s coffee table, surrounded by his laptop, a couple dozen papers and a wine glass. 

**_< timothee>_ ** _ -image- _

_ i just wanted to thank you once again _

_ the book is incredible _

Armie smiles as he thinks of what he could possibly write back, something that would let Timothée know he is glad he's enjoying the book, but also that would hint he is even happier to see him texting him. He bites his lip, hears Anna clearing her throat and immediately looks up, reminding himself his sister is actually sitting there.

"Sorry."

"So, why is Timothée texting you at midnight?"

"You know, we should actually be discussing the fact you´re obtrusively checking my phone. You do know they are supposed to be personal things, right?"

"I took it so I could check the time, alright? No need to be all defensive, big guy."

"Right."

"Now, will you tell me why on earth is Timothée texting in the middle of the night when you're supposed to have only a professional relationship?"

"A professional relationship that comes with quite a lot of baggage already, so I doubt we´ll ever be like any other boss and employee, no matter how hard we try."

"Still not answering my question," she smirks, holding tight onto the mug. "Does this have anything to do with the fact you gave him a ride last night?"

"How on earth do you even...," he sighs, putting on a fake smile. "You´re dating his best friend, of course you know about that."

"C´mon, Armand."

"He texted me because he wanted to thank me for a book I gave to him."

"Oh, we´re giving books now, huh?"

"I thought he would appreciate the book and that it could help him in this new phase of his life. He's just starting out at the company, he's working on his first project and might have a new one coming his way and I could tell he was nervous about it, so I thought something that demystified the rules of graphic design could come in hand right now."

"Wait," she leans back against the chair, a frown forming on her face. "Did you give him grandpa´s book?"

"Yeah."

"You got one with dad?"

"No, I gave him mine."

"Yours? The one you were always making little notes on? Sketching ideas and drawings?," as Armie nods slowly, Anna smirks, shaking her head. "I mean, I knew you were head over heels for the guy, but I sure didn't expect that to happen."

"It's just a book, Anna."

"Armie, I´m your baby sister, I know you better than anyone else in this world, so you can stop playing games with me. That book, along with this one right here," she says while reaching for the old copy of The Posthumous Memoirs of Bras Cubas that is lying on the table. "They are two of the most precious things you have in life, books you'd keep with you no matter where you were going, because you loved them more than anything. So you can keep lying to yourself if you want, but please, don´t try to fool me any longer."

"Anna, it's not...," Armie sighs, not entirely sure he can keep trying to fool people, specially Anna, after everything that has happened. Just about a week ago, he almost kissed Timothée again, he had the time of his life chatting with him at the bar the previous night and enjoyed every single second of their motorcycle ride together. As he had admitted to himself earlier in the day, he was in love with him and there was no longer a point in denying that. At least not to Anna.

He stares at his sister for a moment, then turns his eyes down to the phone, realizing the cursor is still blinking and he completely forgot about his reply. He starts writing something down, deletes it and then starts over again, only to delete it again seconds later.

"Want me to write that one out for you? I think some heart emojis could do the trick, you know?"

"I hate you sometimes," he says as she chuckles. "Look, you´re not wrong about Timothée, but I don't want you to think me giving him a ride or giving him the book means anything else than me just trying to be a good person, alright? Nothing is gonna happen between us, not anymore, not while I´m his boss."

"Fine, whatever you...," Anna frowns, tilting her head to the side as she leans closer to Armie. "Wait, did you just say I was right?"

"I said you were not wrong."

"So you finally admit you´re in love with him? No more of this  _ it's more than attraction, but I´m not in love _ bullshit?"

Armie rolls his eyes, but nods his head slowly.

"Dude, why took you so damn long?"

"Anna, you have no idea of the mess that's my head right now. I could barely admit it to myself before this morning, let alone admit to you or anyone else."

"Armie," she sighs, moves to sit beside him on the couch and pulls him down, letting him rest his head on her lap, her fingers gently stroking his hair. "I´m sorry, brother, I wish things could be easier."

"Yeah, me too."

* * *

The Sun has appeared once again and campus is quieter than usual, which Timothée takes full advantage of; sitting cross legged on the grass, the book Armie gave him the previous day laying on his thighs while by his side, his backpack and a cup of coffee are set. With every new page he finds something new to think about, an idea that is deconstructed and turned into something that's completely different than what it previously was.

It's beyond him how someone can be so articulated, how human intelligence can go beyond expectation. Julius Armand Hammer was one of the most prolific designers of his generation and with his family money, he managed to create an empire, that lives on until this day, but on the very first page of the book, he makes sure the reader knows that aside from his wife and son, that book was his biggest pride.

The thought of that alone brings a smile to Timothée´s face, thinking of how touching it is to know that a man that could have it all, was happy to just spread his words, help guide so many other artists that would come after him. Through those words, Timothée had a good idea of what kind of upbringing Armie and Anna had, which explained how they turned out to be the people they were. Their family might have enough money to rule the state if wanted, but they still worked hard, fought for what they believed in, were kind and caring.

While he adjusts his legs, Timothée reaches out for his cup of coffee, taking a few sips of it. He looks around himself for a moment, spots Jackson and Chloe walking in and waves them over, a smile spreading across his face as they sit down in front of him, Chloe immediately reaching for his coffee, while Jackson takes his book in his hands.

"You guys can´t keep your hands to yourselves, can you?"

"What's this?"

"It's called a book, Jack, I thought they had them in mathematics too."

"Funny," Jackson says while rolling his eyes, leaning back into one hand while he flips through the book with the other. "Wait, isn´t this Armie and Anna´s grandfather's book?"

"Yeah, Armie gave it to me."

"Excuse me?," Chloe smirks, taking the book away from Jackson. "So car and motorcycle rides were not enough, now he's giving you presents too?"

"He was just being nice, trying to give me something that could probably help me gain some inspiration."

"Right, that's all he's doing," Jackson smirks, shaking his head. "You´re either a lot more naïve than you pretend to be, or you're just not seeing what's so clearly in front of you."

"And what is that?"

"He likes you too, Tim."

"That's nonsense."

"You said to yourself he almost kissed you the night you stopped by his apartment."

"Yeah, but that doesn't mean he likes me the same way I like him."

"No, it just means he sees you as more than just an employee, that what happened between the two of you that night weeks ago is still as present in his thoughts as is in yours."

"Maybe you´re right, but that doesn't change the main issue in our relationship, does it?"

"No, it doesn't. But as Chloe has said many times, maybe your relationship with him isn't as doomed as you think it is," he shrugs, leaning closer to Chloe to take a peek at the book, noticing a few notes written down on the sides. "I know you love your notes, but isn't this a bit too much for someone who's just got the book?"

"Those are not mine," Timothée chuckles. "Those are Armie´s notes, the book is filled with them, it even has some music notes at the very end of it."

"You two really are meant to be, huh?," Chloe smirks, looking up at Timothée. "You even share the love for making notes."

"What do you have against people who take notes?," he asks as Chloe blows him a kiss, making him laugh. He leans back, eyes wandering around the campus, noticing how the place slowly starts to get crowded, professors and students walking around. He smiles, the sun on his skin as he sips on his coffee, his eyes landing on his phone, which he takes in his hand, scrolling through his messages in hope Armie would have replied to him, but the conversation remains unilateral.

"You alright?"

"Huh?," Timothée questions, looking up from the phone at Chloe, who looks at him a bit confused. "What did you say?"

"Are you alright? Your face changed all of a sudden there, I thought something might have happened."

"No, it's all good," he shrugs, trying not to dwell much into the fact Armie hasn't even replied to him. "Just thinking about all the notes I'll do in class", he mocks, laughing along with his friends.

* * *

  
  


The sunlight shines in through the glass door that leads to the balcony, the black curtains that usually seclude the bedroom from the outside world wide open, allowing the light to illuminate the entire place. Lying on his underwear, Armie rolls around the bed, a yawn escaping him as he opens his eyes, blinking at the brightness of the morning. He sighs, sits down in bed and runs his fingers through his hair, eyes wandering across his bedroom just as the smell of fresh coffee takes up the air.

He pushes himself up, drags himself to the bathroom and splashes some water onto his face, his blue eyes tired and his body begging for a couple more minutes of sleep. While it's always a pleasure to have his sister around the penthouse, Armie knows it usually ends up with them staying up until late, talking over the most diverse subjects and last night wasn't any different.

He slaps his cheeks gently a couple of times, which helps him wake up and bring some color to his face, then walks back to the bedroom, picking up his sweatpants to put on before he can join his sister at the kitchen. Once he exits the bedroom, Armie crosses his arms, backs up against the wall as he watches Anna dance around the kitchen, the coffee machine doing its job while she places muffins and croissants on a basket.

She eventually realizes his stare and glances up, a little smile on her face as she waves him over. He smirks, pushing himself off of the wall and walking over to her, hopping onto one of the stools and reaching for a croissant at the basket. He takes a bite, licking his lips as the buttery taste fills up his mouth, which makes him smile.

"Someone woke up inspired."

"More like hungry," she chuckles, shrugging her shoulders. "I woke earlier than I would want, ordered some breakfast and asked the girls at the front desk to bring it here once it arrived. But the coffee is all my doing, I´ll let you know."

"The coffee in the coffee machine?"

"Your coffee machine is quite fancy, so not as easy to maneuver as you'd think, alright?"

"Sure, it's the coffee machine, it has nothing to do with the fact you never had to cook in your life."

"Not everyone is born with all these amazing skills, mister. I'm good with fashion and making friends, you´re good at....," she sighs, shrugging her shoulders. "Everything else, apparently."

"There´s a lot I'm lacking, trust me."

"So humble," she scoffs, reaches for the mugs and pours them some coffee, sliding one of the mugs towards him. "So, what's the schedule for this glorious Friday?"

"A lot of work?," he shrugs, taking a few sips of coffee. "I´ll be going through your project today, try to see if I can sketch some things."

"Has Timothée decided if he's going to be part of it or not?"

"If he did, he didn't tell me, but I did tell him to think it through, see if he was ready to take on both projects at once."

"You think there's a chance he will say no? He seemed pretty interested in the idea when I talked to him, but I´m not entirely sure of how he feels having to work with you so closely," she bites her lip, tapping her fingers on the counter. "And now that I think about, you might not be too comfortable working with him either."

Armie cocks an eyebrow, staring at his sister for a moment, before he finally understands what is going on.

"Is this somehow related to what we talked about yesterday?," he asks and Anna sighs, shrugging her shoulders. He keeps his eyes on her until she finally glances up at him, her eyes doing all the talking necessary. "Anna, I never meant for yesterday's conversation to affect you this way. I don't want you to feel as if you have to change your approach to any of this because of what we talked about, okay? I don't mind having you teasing me about Timothée, or even how intentionally or not you often force us close to one another."

"Yeah, but that's the thing, Armie. Until last night I don't think I ever truly stopped to think about how those little things could affect you. Maybe I shouldn't have suggested him for the project, or maybe I shouldn't have gotten into a relationship with his best friend."

"Okay, you have to stop," he reaches for her hand, squeezes it softly and then plants a kiss on it. "A part of you might have wanted to tease me, but since day one you've talked about Timothée's style and how you relate to it, so it wasn't exactly weird of you to choose him for your project. And when it comes to Jackson, I'm happy you found someone who cares about you, someone who you have fun with, so don't you dare jeopardize that in any way because of me. Are we understood?"

"Are you sure a little bit of distance wouldn't be better?"

"Yes, I'm sure."

"Okay," she nods, forcing a smile as Armie pokes her cheek. "But I'll try to tone it down a little bit."

"I doubt you'll be able to," he chuckles as she gasps. "But be my guess."

  
  


* * *

  
  
  


"Thanks, Greg," Timothée smiles as he takes the large cup of coffee in his hand, his eyes wandering around the busy street before he crosses it. He enters the building, waves at ladies in the front desk on his way to the elevators and presses the button, leaning against the wall as he waits for one of the elevators to arrive. He fishes for his phone, scrolls through a couple of his messages, but sighs as he realizes the one he truly wants to receive is still nowhere to be seen. 

He takes a sip of his coffee, opens the conversation with Armie and stares at the screen for a moment. He saw the message, which means he either didn't want to reply to him -a thought that leaves Timothée mortified, specially after all the thought he put on whether or not to send the text-, or he might not have had the time to so, and considering how busy Armie is, Timothée knows that's a very plausible option.

He groans, hating the fact he is even debating over such a thing and looks up, noticing one of the elevators is just about to arrive. He pushes himself off of the wall, takes yet another sip of his coffee and watches as the doors open to reveal, much to his surprise, a disheveled and clearly nervous Megan. As she nearly throws herself on top of him, Timothée does his best not to spill any of his coffee, his eyes wide as he tries to read her expression and understand what is going on.

"Megan, what is going on?"

"My dad," she breathes out, dropping her head as she tries to control her breathing. "My dad, he's been in a car crash."

"What?," Timothée's heart sinks as he hears those words, his thought immediately going to his own father. He takes a breath, brings Megan to a less crowded space and forces her to look at him. "What happened?"

"We Don't know for sure yet, my mom just asked me to meet her at the hospital," she explains, her eyes constantly moving towards the entrance until a car parks in front of the building. She checks her phone, sighs, then turns to Timothée, who's watching her carefully. "Look, I texted Armie but he's having lunch with his father and hasn't managed to see my texts. Can you please let him know what happened?"

"Yes, I'll let him know," he nods, walking towards the door with her. "Is there anything else you want me to do?"

"There are four orange files on my desk, Armie needs to go through today, so if you could hand them to him I'd appreciate it."

"Okay," Timothée nods, surprised Megan would be so focused on her work even in such a situation. "Do you want me to go with you? Or call anyone upstairs to go with you?"

"No, it's okay."

"Are you sure?"

"Yeah," she nods, tears falling down her eyes once again. "I'll be alright, thank you."

"Call me if you need anything and I'll rush over to you," he says while pulling her into a quick hug. He opens the car door for her, watches as she fixes herself on the passenger seat and then closes the door, watching as the driver takes off down the street. He sighs, shakes his head and walks back inside, going straight to the elevators. 

He presses the button to the twentieth floor, secludes himself in the far corner of the elevator and finishes his coffee, although his mind is being constantly taken back to Megan and how desperate she looked. Ever since he stepped into the company for the first time, Megan had been nothing but confident, cheerful and rather loud, so seeing this version of her had taken him by surprise. 

When the elevator comes to a stop, it takes Timothée a second or two to actually push himself off of the wall and step out, a dozen different thoughts going through his head all at once. He gives his colleagues a general wave, notices that some of Megan's closest friends have worried looks on their faces and walks to his desk, nearly throwing himself down on the chair. He sighs loudly, looks around the desk for a moment and then turns on his computer, determined to focus his mind on something he can actually control.

He starts editing the Notre Dame project, starting off by the logo and then moving on to the website's header, which takes him a lot more time then he initially expected. As he grows more into the work, time also passes quicker and when he least expects he's been working for over an hour. He sighs, pushes his chair back and stretches out his arms and legs, a yawn escaping him. As he is about to turn his attention back to the computer, the elevator doors open again and Armie comes into view, his phone pressed against his ear as he walks straight to his office without even looking back.

He bites his lip, not entirely sure if he should follow him or not, but Megan's words reverberate in his mind and he pushes himself up, rushing over to her desk where he picks the files she had mentioned. He takes a breath, keeps the files close to his chest and walks to Armie's office, knocking on the door.

"It's open," as he hears his voice, Timothée pushes the door open and pokes his head in, a small smile on the corner of his lips as their eyes meet. "It's okay, you can come in."

"Megan asked me to let you know that her father..."

"Is in the hospital," Armie finishes the phrase, taking a seat on his chair as he gestures for Timothée to close the door behind him. "Yeah, I saw her message on my way here and called her immediately."

"Oh, okay," Timothée nods, biting his lip. "Do you happen to know how her father's doing?"

"Apparently he broke his leg and will have to go through surgery."

"Surgery? Man, that's horrible."

"Yeah, not exactly what anyone expected, but the doctors made sure to tell them it isn't as bad as they initially thought either."

"Oh, okay that's good then," he nods, a sigh of relief escaping him. He bites his lip, clutching the files close to his chest as he stands in the middle of the office, both him and Armie in complete silence for a moment. As he finally remembers the files on his hand, he walks closer to Armie's desk, handing him the files. "I almost forgot, but Megan asked me to hand these to you. Apparently they are very important and you should go through them today."

"Only Megan would worry about this while her father is being rushed to the hospital."

"She really cares about this job...and you."

"And I'm very lucky to have someone like her by my side," Armie admits, looking up to Timothée. As their eyes meet, a small smile appears on the corner of his mouth and he leans back against his seat, tapping the pencil he's got on his hand down on the desk. "Have you finished the book?"

"No, not yet."

"Really? Because judging by the photo you sent me yesterday I figured you'd be completely done with it by now."

"Well, I admit it took me a lot to actually put it down."

"It's addicting, isn't it?"

"In the best way possible," Timothée admits, leaning against the chair. "You must be really proud to have someone like him in your life. I mean, to have had someone like him in your life."

"Yeah. You know, I was only ten when he passed away, but that didn't stop me from spending long hours sitting along with him, watching as he drew or talked to my dad about work. Watching him be himself, do his thing, has always inspired me and I thought that book could do the same to you somehow."

Timothée nods, his finger playing with the seam from the leather chair. "It really is an inspiring book, not only because of your grandfather's words, but also because of your notes and drawings."

"Right," Armie looks down, scratching the back of his neck. "For a moment I forgot those were in there, I'm really sorry."

"No, you have no reason to be sorry. Like I said, it only made the book even more interesting than it already was."

"If you say so," Armie smiles. "Also, I wanted to apologize for not replying to your message last night."

"Oh," Timothée gulps, shakes his head and tries to keep his cool, act as if this topic didn't immediately send shivers down his spine. "You don't have to apologize."

"No, I do. I wanted to reply to you, but Anna was there with me and then it just seemed like it was too late."

"It's never too late," Timothée replies and their eyes immediately meet, the double connotation of such a phrase not going unnoticed by either one of them. "Anyway, I should probably let you get back to work."

"Actually, there's something else I'd like to talk to you about."

"Is there something wrong?"

"No, I was just wondering if you had time to think about Anna's project."

"Right," he smacks his lips together, nods his head slowly and pulls the chair, taking a seat across from Armie. "The offer is still standing?"

"Of course the offer is still standing."

"Then yes, I'd love to join you in the project."

Armie nods, a wide smile spreading across his lips. "I look forward to us working together, Timothée."

"I hope I won't disappoint you."

"I doubt that's possible," Armie blurts out, clearing his throat straight afterwards. "Anyway, I'll send you some of the ideas I had, so you can go through them and then we'll have a proper meeting about it. Sounds good to you?"

"Sounds great," he smiles, pushes himself up and walks over to the door. "Thank you for the opportunity."

"You don't have to thank me every time you get a new project, Timothée."

"Maybe not, but it also doesn't kill me to do it," he shrugs, gives Armie one last glance and then heads out of the office, closing the door behind him. He walks straight to his desk, sits down and sighs, covering his face with his hands to hide his smile, which by now is so big it nearly hurts his cheeks. He turns to the computer, about to get back to work when his phone starts vibrating on the desk. 

He reaches for it and frowns, slightly confused when he sees Armie is the one who sent him a message. With his hands slightly shaky, he clicks on the notification and can't help but chuckle as he sees what's written.

**_< armie>_ ** _ You said it's never too late, so... _

_ I hope you make a good use of the book _

_ That it inspires you the same way it once inspired me _

_ Also, try not to make too many notes ;) _


	19. A Sunny Day In New York

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A good team

Timothée walks down the street, his hands in the pockets of his jacket, while his curls bounce with each step he takes. He glances around the street, notices some stores closing while some bars raise their doors and take chairs out into the sidewalk, preparing themselves for the thrill of Friday night. He turns a corner, frowning as he sees Chloe standing outside the bookstore, her bag hanging from her left shoulder, her orange hair tied up in a bun and in her hand a bunch of keys.

"I´m sorry, are you closed already? I really needed to buy a book."

"Bite me, Chalamet," Chloe says without even raising her gaze, her eyes completely focused on the task at hand, guaranteeing the store is closed and nothing has been left behind. Once she finishes, she tugs on the door handle, tries to force it open and smiles when absolutely nothing happens; she sighs, fixes the strap of her bag and finally turns to face Timothée, her arms crossed. "What brings you to this area of town at this time of the day, my friend?"

"I left the office, but I didn't feel like going home, so I decided to stop by and see if you wanted to grab something to eat."

"I'd love to," she smiles, linking arms with Timothée as she leads him down the street, which gets crowded as it gets darker. "There´s a new burger joint nearby, want to check it out? My classmates say it's got a pretty good selection of sandwiches and it's not pricey."

"I never say no to a good sandwich."

Chloe chuckles, nudging Timothée softly as they head over to the diner, sharing bits of their day as they go. It takes less than five minutes for them to arrive and they stop in front of the building, which has dark bricks on the front and a large window, allowing the natural light to come on in. They step in, moving their eyes around the place in search of a table, but the place seems too crowded; when they are about to give up, Timothée notices a small one near the counter and tugs on Chloe´s hand, pulling her with him.

They rush across the diner, sit down and toss their bags underneath the table, both of them letting out loud sighs. While some people saw Friday as an opportunity to let loose, there were others -like Timothée and Chloe- who wanted nothing more than a quiet night to regain all the energy wasted during the week.

"...but she hasn't texted me or anything, so I don't really know how her father is doing."

"God, that's terrible," Chloe shakes her head, reaching for one of the menus that is set on the table. "She must have been so shocked to get a call like that."

"She really was, I never saw her like that, she's usually so cheerful and smiley," he sighs, runs his fingers through his hair and leans back on the chair. "Armie talked to her though, he said her father´s got a broken leg and might need surgery, but I´m waiting to see if she has any news about it."

"Let's hope that's really all that happened," she shrugs, chewing on her bottom lip. "How's things with Armie, has he given you any new presents?"

"He's not going around giving me presents left and right, okay?"

"Not yet," she smirks.

"I don't even know why I tell you things."

"Because I´m your best friend and even if I do mock you sometimes, you know it is the right thing to do."

He rolls his eyes, but can´t help the grin on his face.

"Actually, I got something else to tell you."

"And what is that?"

"I agreed to take part on Anna´s project."

"Wait, does that mean you´ll be working with Armie? Like, a real partnership?"

Timothée nods, biting his lip as Chloe smirks, shaking her head.

"You think I made a mistake?"

"I think you did exactly what you wanted to do," she shrugs. "You got yourself a big project, that could give you even more visibility than the one you are currently working on. And if that wasn´t enough, you get to do it while working side by side with the man you´re in love with. The way I see it, you´re one hell of an opportunistic and I admire you for that."

"Well, I can´t stay away from him, neither can I be with him, so I might as well just enjoy what life throws at me, right?," he shrugs, just as the waiter walks over to them, a pleasant smile on his face. "Good afternoon, I´ll have the..."

* * *

  
  


Armie parks the car outside the brownstone brick mansion, his fingers tapping on the steering wheel as he watches a couple of kids rush past him, all of them laughing. He smiles, the kids reminding him of himself, when he would sit on the stone steps on the front of the house, waiting for his friends to come by so they could play outside. He scoffs, the memories of a much easier life also reminding him of all the complications he now has to go through.

He takes off his seatbelt, reaches on the passenger seat for his backpack and takes it with him as he hops off of the car, making sure to lock everything behind him. He takes one last look at the children playing, smiles and runs up to the front door, fumbling through his key bunch until he finds the right one. He opens the door and immediately frowns, slightly confused at the silence of the house. 

And truth be told, ever since him and Anna grew up, there wasn't that much noise around, but this still seemed slightly odd. He closes the door behind him, tosses his key into the bowl that rests on the credenza by the door and walks further in, blue eyes taking in his surroundings until he hears footsteps on the staircase. He turns around, a smile spreading across his lips as he sees Margareth, her blonde hair perfectly combed into a braid.

"Armie, I didn't know you were stopping by," she says, bringing him into a tight hug.

"It's an impromptu visit," he shrugs. "So I hope I'm not interrupting you guys."

"Armie, this is your house, you could never interrupt."

Armie smiles, plants a kiss on her head and looks around, gesturing to the emptiness of the house.

"Where's everyone?"

"Your dad is upstairs, he just got out of the shower. Your sister is out again with her new fling, I wonder how long this one will last."

"Jackson isn't like the previous ones, Margareth," Armie assures her, his hand resting on top of hers as they walk to the living room. "I've seen her around him and I've never seen my sister like that before."

"So you've met him?"

"Yeah, I've seen him twice," he nods, walking over to the bar, where he prepares Margareth a Martini and pours himself a healthy dose of Scotch. "And I can tell he really likes her."

"That's good," she smiles, leaning back on the armchair as Armie hands her the Martini. "Anna deserves to find someone who truly likes her, someone who will treat her right and make sure she's loved as much as she deserves to be."

"I think he might just be that person," he nods, sitting across from her. "You don't have to worry."

"What about you?"

"What about me?"

"Should I worry about you? I mean, you've never been the type to bring anyone home, but we always knew there were a lot of people walking in and out of your life, but lately it seems all you care about is work and everything else is being neglected."

"You don't have to worry about me, Margareth," he assures her, takes a sip of his Scotch and sighs. "I'm not neglecting anything, I'm just not as interested in meaningless relationships as I once was."

"That's really good to hear," she smiles. "You're such an amazing man, Armie, you too deserve to find someone who cares and loves you. And I'm certain there is a man or woman out there, just waiting for you to see them, so they can give you everything you deserve."

"Thanks, Margareth."

"I just want what's best for you and your sister," she assures him. "You may not be my children, but I love you as if you were."

"I know and I love you too, I hope you know that."

"I do," she nods, winking at him when they both hear footsteps and Douglas's thundering voice echoing through the house. "Oh, my love, look who came to have dinner with us."

"I didn't say anything about dinner," Armie smirks, pushing himself up from the chair and walking over to his father. "But I also won't say no to it."

"Is everything okay, kiddo?," Douglas asks, giving Armie a quick hug.

"You see me twice a day and immediately assume something is wrong?," Armie chuckles. "I mostly didn't feel like going back to an empty apartment, but I also wanted to give you and Anna some news about her project."

"Well, Anna is off with her new boyfriend, but you can tell me the news."

"Timothée accepted the offer, we're gonna work together on Anna's project."

"Oh, that's marvellous," Douglas says excited, patting Armie's back. "I just know you two are gonna be great together."

"I'm getting curious about this Timothée guy," Margareth joins them, handing a glass to Douglas. "You and Anna seem so fond of him, not to mention Armie doesn't work with everyone, so if he's partnering with him, it means he's good at the job."

"One of the best we ever had," Armie says and he can't help but scoff as he realizes the double meaning in his words. Timothée sure is one of the best he has ever had, not only as an employee but also as a lover. "Maybe you'll get to meet him at one of the company's parties."

"Or we could invite him over for dinner," Douglas sits down, not noticing Armie's eyes going wide. "Your sister is dating his best friend now, it wouldn't be such a weird thing, would it?"

Yes. That's what Armie wants to say. Yes, it would be weird to sit down with his family and the employee he's in love with, have dinner and pretend nothing is happening when in reality there's so much in his head, he can barely think straight.

"Nope," is what Armie ends up saying. "It wouldn't be weird at all."

* * *

  
  


The sky is blue, just a couple clouds in sight as the clock strikes nine in the morning, the penthouse quiet, the curtains closed and keeping any sort of light from coming in. In the bedroom, tangled in sheets and blankets, Armie has his eyes locked on the ceiling and his arms spread open, his breathing slow and steady.

He had a long conversation with his father about his sister´s project, what were his plans for it and how he envisioned his partnership with Timothée, who seemed to have an avid eye for fashion, while also being quite attentive to what the general public was after it. According to his father, Timothée was the perfect person to work alongside him and while his instincts told him not to bite into that one, Armie knew it was true and the simple thought of spending hours along with him, discussing everything from a logo to the color a button would turn into once you clicked on the home screen excited him.

He smiles to himself, feeling almost like a high school boy, who just got paired up to a biology project with his crush. Timothée was the first person since his first girlfriend to so quickly change his life around and plunge a place into his heart and mind. And no matter what he did, Armie knew there was no way he would be able to kick him out anytime soon, which led him to making quite extreme decisions.

Whether this would come back to bite him in the ass or not, Armie was done trying to keep a safe distance. He wouldn´t cross any actual lines -or at least he hoped not-, but he certainly wouldn't run away from Timothée any longer.

He sighs, pushes himself up and rushes to the shower, allowing the lukewarm water to cascade down his head and body, washing away any traces left of sleep. Once he steps out, he reaches for a towel on the hook, dries himself off and ties it around his waist while walking back to the bedroom. He stops by the closet, picks up some jeans and a t-shirt and puts it on, running his fingers through his hair as he tries to do something with the stray strands of dark blond hair.

He's just making it to the kitchen when he hears the intercom and walks over to it, the receiver pressed against his ear as he hears one of the young ladies in the lobby speak. He mutters a thanks, puts the receiver back in place and waits right in front of the elevator, arms crossed and eyebrows cocked.

"What are you doing here?," he asks the instant the doors open, revealing a very different Megan than he is used to seeing. Her curly hair is tied back in a braid, her lips -which are usually painted in a dark shade of red- are pale and there are bags under her eyes.

"Have I been fired?"

"No, you haven't been fired, but it's also Saturday and you were supposed to be with your father, who just had a car accident."

"My brother is there with him and my mom," she explains, shrugging her shoulders as she walks past him. "You know when I get nervous I need to focus my mind onto something, otherwise I´ll go insane."

"So you decided you were going to work on a Saturday?"

"Not much work, but just a little," she forces a smile, hopping onto one of the stools. Armie sighs, shakes his head and walks to the cupboards, grabbing two glasses, which he fills up with orange juice and slides one in her direction. "Thanks."

"Okay, then what exactly is it that you´re doing here."

"I woke up super early, did some chores around the house and then found myself without nothing to do, so I started going through some emails, sorted out some contracts and new proposals, then decided to bring it all here for you to take a look. I mean, I don't want to drop even more work on your shoulders, specially on a Saturday, but I didn't want to leave this hanging until Monday."

"Fine," he smiles gently, reaching out for the files she has with her and takes a quick look at them, nodding his head. "I´ll make sure to check this out, if not today, sometime around tomorrow."

Megan nods, leans her chin against her palm and sighs heavily, her eyes wandering around the penthouse for a second, before she turns back to Armie, chuckling softly.

"I haven't been here in months," she says. "I forgot how beautiful this place truly is."

"You know you´re welcomed to stop by anytime you want."

"Really? Hasn't that rule been applied to your new favorite employee."

He frowns, "and who would that be?"

"Oh, c´mon, do I really need to spell it out?," Armie nods and Megan laughs, shaking her head. "Timothée, obviously."

"Why would you say that?"

"Armie, before I was your secretary I was your friend. I´ve been to company parties with you, I´ve seen the way you look at the men and women you´re interested in, so while you´re doing a great job trying to hide it, I know there's something between you and him. And I´m not saying anything happened between the two of you, I know how much pride you take in the fact you never got involved with any employees, but I know he's different from the others."

"You sound just like my sister."

"Um, which means I'm right. Right?"

"I´m not falling into that one," he points his finger at her, smiles and watches as she chuckles, shrugging her shoulders. "He accepted to work on Anna´s project, by the way."

"You two will be working together?," Armie simply nods. "Lucky Anna, your talents combined are sure gonna earn her a beautiful, modern and very efficient visual identity."

"I sure hope so, Anna's very excited about it and my father is waiting for something great from us."

"Armie, your talent isn't only for the business and Timothée is also a great artist, I know whatever you two come up with is gonna be incredible."

"Thanks," he smiles, glances around the kitchen and stands up. "Since you´re here, wanna join me for breakfast?"

"That would be my second breakfast of the day, but what the hell," she shrugs and Armie chuckles, reaching for pancake mix at the cupboard.

* * *

  
  


Timothée has his eyes closed, his head tilted slightly to the back as the water cascades down his body, washing away the stress of a whole week of work and classes. He runs his fingers through his wet curls, turns around and looks out of the window, noticing just how clear the sky is. He bites his lip, turns off the shower and reaches for his towel, drying himself off before tying it around his waist. He stops by the mirror, squirts some leave-in creme on his hand and carefully applies it to his hair, trying his best to do something with his curls.

Once he's dressed, with the most comfortable clothes he could possibly find in his closet, Timothée heads to the kitchen, where he pours himself a glass of orange juice. He takes it with him to the living room, plows down on the couch and reaches for his book by the coffee table, an immediate smile spreading across his lips when he flips through the pages until the one where he left off. He runs his fingers through the page, circling one of the many notes Armie has added there and chews on his bottom lip, wondering exactly how working with him is gonna be.

Even before they talked, amid the obvious and understandable awkwardness that had been built between them, Armie always did his best to make him feel welcomed, so he knew that was something he didn't need to worry about now. No matter what had happened between them, no matter how clear it was that it would never be a normal relationship between them, Timothée knew Armie would always listen to him and take in his input on things regarding the project. Armie might be the boss, but while working on Anna´s project they are partners.

He scratches the back of his neck, tries to focus his mind back on the book and fixes the cushions on the couch, getting himself more comfortable before he can start reading. Sadly, before he can even finish the first line, Timothée is interrupted by his phone vibrating on the coffee table; he reaches for it, groaning as he has to stretch himself a lot more than he would have liked and nearly drops the phone to the ground when he sees a message from Armie.

**_< armie>_ ** _ Good morning _

_ I know it's saturday and I should leave you alone _

_ But you think we can talk? _

Timothée licks his lips, eyes wide as he reads the texts over and over again, his brain doing cartwheels as he tries to figure out why he would be texting him on Saturday morning. He cracks the knuckles of his fingers, starts writing something, but quickly deletes it, his heart nearly pounding off of his chest as he tries to figure out the right words.

**_< timothee>_ ** _ good morning _

_ is everything ok? _

_ anything wrong with the project? _

**_< armie> _ ** _ No, your project remains perfect _

_ I wanted to talk to you about Anna´s project, actually. _

Timothée smiles, noticing Armie writes his texts exactly as he would speak and write formal notes, following every grammar rule there is in the English language. On anyone else, Timothée would probably frown upon such a thing, think whoever is typing like that is trying to be condescending, but coming from Armie, he finds it cute and amusing.

**_< armie>_ ** _ Have I lost you? _

**_< timothee>_ ** _ no no u havent _

_ what do u need? _

**_< armie>_ ** _ Actually, I was hoping we could meet up _

_ Maybe discuss things over lunch? _

_ That's it, if you don't have anything else to do, of course _

Timothée stops for a moment, his eyes staring at the small screen of his phone. Is this real life? Is Armie actually inviting him for lunch? And sure, all he wants is to discuss their project, but still, Timothée can hardly wrap his head around the idea of being alone with Armie, sharing a meal and hearing him talk. He swallows dryly, thinks of texting Jackson for some enlightenment, but knows exactly what would be his answer, so he simply gathers all the courage he has in him -which seems to completely disappear when Armie´s on the picture- and texts him back.

**_< timothee>_ ** _ thats fine with me _

**_< armie>_ ** _ Really? That´s great. _

_ I´ll pick you up around twelve thirty? _

**_< timothee>_ ** _ yeah sounds good _

**_< armie>_ ** _ I´ll see you then _

Timothée nearly squeals at the message, chuckles at his own reaction and leans back against the couch cushions, staring up at the ceiling. He's about to have lunch with Armie in a sunny New York Saturday, but that's not all, he's about to have Armie pick him up at his apartment and take him out to lunch. Never in his wildest dream did Timothée think this was a possible scenario for them, even if the only reason Armie was doing this was because of the project they had to work on together. Because that was the only reason he was doing this. It had to be. Right?

* * *

  
  


Timothée stands in front of the mirror, dark jeans and a black sweater on, but on his face there's a frown on uncertainty. He sighs, takes the sweater off and throws it at the bed, turning to the closet to reach for yet another shirt, which he puts it on, but it soons ends up in the very same place as all the other ones. He huffs, sits down on the edge of the bed and crosses his arms, staring at his reflection in the mirror as he tries to make it through his entire closet mentally, figure out which outfit would be the best.

"Just pick an outfit already, asshole," he whispers as he throws himself back on the bed, arms spread wide and eyes stuck to the ceiling. He feels his phone vibrating somewhere in the bed and looks around, stretching himself out so he can reach for it on the pillow. The moment he sees it´s Jackson, he immediately answers it, sitting up straight as his friend´s face fills up the screen. "Thank God you called, I need some help with my outfit."

"Bro, you know that's not exactly my area."

"Tough luck," he shrugs, pushing himself up to stand in front of the mirror once again, in one hand the phone and on the other two different shirts. "I called Chloe and she won't answer me, so you´ll have to do the job yourself."

"Fine, what is going on?"

"I´m going out for lunch with Armie and I'm having trouble choosing something to wear," he says while trying his best to balance the phone and all the shirts he's holding. "So while I want to make sure it doesn't look like I tried too hard, it also can´t seem like I am a total slob, so I..."

"Alright, back it up."

"What?"

"You're going on a date with Armie?"

"What? No, I´ll be teaming up with him on Anna´s project, so he called me earlier and asked if I could join him for lunch, that way we can start discussing the project."

Jackson nods, a little chuckle escaping him as he watches Timothée go through half a dozen shirts, all of them ending up back in his bed.

"Honestly, I´m not even sure why I'm surprised. You and Armie have been defying the rules of boss and employee relationship ever since day one."

"It's just lunch."

"You´ve been repeating that to yourself ever since you agreed to this, haven't you?"

"Maybe," Timothée says, trying not to show defeat. He watches as Jackson chuckles, shakes his head and then sighs, leaning closer to the screen as he squints his eyes. "So, you´re gonna help me or not?"

"Fine, what exactly do you need me to do?"

"I need you to tell me which one of these shirts looks best with these pants," he sighs. "And remember, I want to look good, but not as if I had tried too hard."

"You trying too hard to impress him?," he scoffs, shaking his head. "You would never do this."

"I'd really appreciate it if you could cut the sarcasm and just go straight to the point," Timothée says, an annoyed tone in his voice. He huffs out, sits back down, but finds himself with wide eyes as he hears the intercon go off in the living room. He stands up all of a sudden, stares at Jackson through the phone with a concerned look and watches as his friend simply shrugs. "What do I do?"

"Put on some black shirt and one of your many jackets, you´ll be fine."

"Are you sure?"

"Timothée, the guy saw you naked, the clothes you put on to go to lunch with him is not important," Jackson assures him. "I do think the fact he´s ringing you from downstairs and you´re still here talking to me might be a deal breaker though."

"Right," he chuckles. "I'll talk to you later."

"Good luck at your business meeting."

"Don´t be cynical, Jackson," he rolls his eyes, ends the call and rushes around the apartment, a black shirt hanging from one of his hands. He reaches the intercon, picks up the receiver and leans against the wall, a loud sigh escaping him. "Hello?"

"Hey, it's Armie."

"Right, I´ll be there in a second."

"It's okay, no need to hurry."

Timothée smiles, puts the receiver back on the hook and puts on the shirt, rushing back to his room to put on his shoes and grab a jacket. He checks himself in the mirror one last time, grabs his phone, wallet and sketchbook and sighs, trying to keep himself cool as he starts projecting all the ways this lunch might go. He leaves the apartment, locks the door behind him and makes it down the stairs as fast as he can, trying his very best not to leave Armie waiting for too long.

With each step closer to the building´s front gate, Timothée finds his heart beating faster and his hands sweating, a kind of nervousness he had never truly felt before. As he opens the gate, Timothée allows his eyes to wander around the street until he spots the black Range Rover parked just a few feet away from his building and Armie leaned against it, keys dangling from his finger. 

As he walks over, Timothée can´t help but lick his lips, his eyes going up and down Armie´s body. He's wearing casual clothes, dark jeans and a light grey sweater, which is something Timothée has seen before, but that paired up with the slightly messy hair and sunglasses makes him look even more handsome than he already is. 

"Hey there," he says the moment he spots him, a large smile spreading across his lips and Timothée feels his knee buckle.

"Hey."

"You sure I'm not disturbing you? If you had any plans for the day, you can tell me and we´ll reschedule this to some other time."

"My main plan for the day was to work, so if I'm doing this, at least let me do it while eating something nice, other than the mac´n´cheese I would be cooking for myself."

"Mac´n´cheese? Seriously?"

"I´m not much of a cook," he shrugs. 

"Okay, then it seems like I´m here to save you."

"I guess you could say so."

"Get in," Armie then says, opening the door for Timothée. "There's a nice place not far from here that I love to go to when I have to get some work done, it's quite peaceful and the food is incredible. I think you'll enjoy it."

"Alright," Timothée nods, jumps in the car and puts on his seatbelt, an unusual kind of thrill building up inside of him as he finds himself once again in Armie's car.

* * *

The restaurant Armie chose wasn't that far away from Timothée´s building, but the atmosphere around it almost made it feel like they were secluded in some island in the middle of a tropical country. There were plants and flowers on the walls, which were mostly of brick, there were movie posters spread around and on each table, a small vase with a succulent. 

The moment they arrived, the hostess greeted Armie with a wide smile and escorted them to what she claimed to be his usual table. Much to Timothée's surprise, it was one of the smallest ones in the entire place, secluded in a corner under a large window that faced a small boulevard. It was the last place Timothée expected to be in for a work meeting, and yet it felt oddly perfect.

They sat down and were almost immediately given a basket of bread, from each Armie nibbled incessantly while explaining to Timothée exactly what Anna was looking for and the ideas he had had over the last couple of days. By the time their drinks arrived, Coke with lemon for Armie and lemonade for Timothée, they had papers and notebooks placed on the table, Armie with an IPad, showing Timothée some references while he made notes and sketched things down.

Timothée wished he could say he was surprised by how easily they seemed to work together, but if he was being honest with himself, every single interaction they had ever since they met led to the irrefutable fact that they were two halves of a whole. Whether this connection would evolve to something more, like Chloe and Jackson believed, Timothée wasn't entirely sure, but he was happy to simply have Armie in his life and get to know him better.

And while they did manage to get a lot of work done, Timothée also got the chance to hear a lot of stories about Armie, the company and his family. How sweet and loving his mother was, how happy he was to see Anna finally find someone she cared about or just how tired he could get after a long day of work, which never truly ended at the office. During the hours they sat there, Timothée learned that Armie wasn't only a great graphic designer and businessman, he was also a brilliant storyteller.

"...and while he made me fully aware of my family's legacy, he never forced me to follow in his footsteps. I watched a lot of my high school and college friends going through jobs and courses they didn't want to, but did it because their families expected that of them and I just couldn't fathom the idea. My mom and dad, and then Margareth, always made sure we followed what was true to us and made us happy. I think my father was probably a bit surprised when I agree to take his place as the CEO, but I think it was one of the best ideas I ever had."

"What about Anna? Doesn't he get even a little bit sad over the fact she doesn't care at all about the company?"

"Not really," he shrugs, playing with his glass. "Like I said, he always encouraged us to do what we loved and it was pretty clear from the start that Anna didn't want anything to do with it."

"Most wealthy families I have come across have some odd dynamics," Timothée chuckles, leaning his elbow on the table. "Yours seems strangely normal though. Should I be scared?"

Armie laughs, leaning back against his chair, his eyes locked on Timothée, who can feel himself blush under his stare. At times it's almost as if he's trying to reach into his soul, extract everything from him without him needing to say a word.

"No, you don't have to be scared. We're all just very down to earth, I guess."

"Yeah, your penthouse overlooking the city really says down to earth," he mocks, wiggling his eyebrows as Armie laughs, nodding his head. "I can only imagine what your parent's house looks like."

"Probably not as magnificent as you're imagining," he reaches for his phone on the table, quickly scrolls through it and then leans closer to Timothée, showing him the picture on the screen. "My dad lives in the exact same place he grew up. My grandfather built this house in the early sixties, moved in with my grandma and my dad, who's raised me and Anna there as well."

"You're right," he glances up at Armie. "It's not as magnificent as I imagined, but still quite beautiful."

"It is," he admits, frowning as he notices a message coming through. He sits up straight, clicks on the notification and sighs, shaking his head. "Crap."

"Something wrong?"

"I was supposed to meet a constructor this afternoon, discuss the new building my dad and I are planning on, but the man just cancelled the meeting."

"But it can be rescheduled, right?"

"It can, but this whole thing has been such a huge pain in the ass," he puffs out, runs his fingers through his hair. "I honestly just wanted to get this over with already, you know?"

"Bright side, you get the rest of the day to yourself and can actually relax a little bit, it is Saturday after all. And judging by what you told me today, you're in desperate need of some alone time."

"Not really sure I'm looking for alone time," he says, although almost in a whisper. He clears his throat, sips on his drink and then sighs heavily, turning to face Timothée. "We should probably go, we've been sitting here for nearly three hours."

"But we got a lot of work done."

"We did," he smiles. "But as you so eloquently pointed out, it's Saturday and you should be doing something other than work."

"I told you my only plan for today was to work, so you don't have to worry about interfering on my very busy weekend schedule."

"Still, you deserve the chance to get some time off too. Go home, get some popcorn and put on a movie, call your friends and have some fun."

"That's if your sister hasn't taken hold of my best friend yet, right?"

"Yeah, Anna is a tough competition," Armie chuckles.

"Tell me about it," he smiles, eyes moving from Armie´s eyes to his lips for a second before he starts collecting his belongings. "I´ll get some things done and send you the designs I have in mind for the project."

"I look forward to seeing your ideas take shape, but remember we´re not rushing anything here, so take your time," Armie also collects his belongings, taking his sunglasses in hand while pushing himself up. "You want a ride home?"

"No need, I'm gonna stop by my friend's work and it's not really that far from here."

"You sure?"

"Yeah, don't worry."

"If you say so," he nods towards the hostess, leads Timothée out of the restaurant and puts his sunglasses on the moment he steps outside. "I'll see you Monday then."

"See you Monday."

"Oh," he stops midway to his car, turning to face Timothée. "I almost forgot, but next friday everyone at the office is getting together for a few drinks, is something we do on the last friday of each month and this is the first one since you joined the team."

"Yeah, Megan has told me about that before."

"You´re joining us, right?," he asks and Timothée feels a light shiver at the tone in Armie´s voice, which hints at some not so subtle enthusiasm. "It would be a shame if you didn't go and missed your initiation."

"My what?"

Armie laughs, obviously noticing the concern that has spread across Timothée. 

"Yeah, Megan usually makes the newbie drink an inhuman amount of alcohol, asks some very personal questions and then asks them to draw some crap. It's very stupid and yet incredibly fun."

"Thanks for the heads up," he shrugs. "I might do some training during the week."

"As long as you don't show up to work drunk, do what's best to prepare yourself...and your stomach."

"No worries, boss, I'll be prudent."

"I'm sure you will," he smirks, taking a couple of steps backwards. "I'll see you Monday."

"I´ll see you Monday," he smiles, watching as Armie walks back to his car, swirling the keys on his finger.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wonder what could possibly happen with these two at the company's gathering at the bar.... 😉😏


	20. Leaving Now Just Doesn't Seem Right

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> My own selfish need

There's music playing in the penthouse, an 80´s jam that fills up the air but isn't overbearing. In the kitchen, Armie leans against the counter, stirring something in a bowl while sipping on a glass of whiskey. Back at the patio is Anna, her hair up in a messy bun while she sets up the table, wine glasses and silverware perfectly placed. She steps back, smiles at her work and then walks back inside, taking a seat on the stool across from Armie.

She reaches out, swipes her finger into the bowl and licks it, a smile spreading across her lips as she does so. As Armie shoots her a dirty look, Anna chuckles, shrugging her shoulders before taking a timid sip of his whiskey. She shakes her head, a frown on her face as soon as the liquid hits her throat, which makes Armie laugh. He takes the glass back from her, finishes his drink and drops the mix into the pan and puts it on the oven, setting up the heat.

"So, what's this whole thing about having Timothée over for dinner?," she asks all of a sudden, earning a sigh from Armie, who looks at her over his shoulder.

"That's all dad's idea, I had absolutely nothing to do with it," he shrugs, while washing his hand. "You and dad keep on gushing about him, now Margareth is curious and wants to meet him. I suggested that she could wait until the next company party or something, but dad had other plans."

"And you didn't think to say no? Maybe remind him that having an employee over for dinner might not look very nice for the other members of the company?"

"Anna, we already had to lie to dad, pretend Timothée and I didn't really get along at first, the last thing I want now is to say anything that would instigate him to make questions."

"You got a point there."

"Besides, judging by what they said over dinner, I don´t think Timothée is gonna be the star of the event."

Anna frowns, confused over the sly smile that suddenly spreads across Armie´s face.

"What are you talking about?"

"I´m talking about your boyfriend," he smirks, sitting on the stool across from her, delighted to see the look of horror that takes his sister's face. "The guy who's got you all smiley, that you see almost every single day and therefore has left dad and Margareth very curious and slightly worried."

"Worried? Why would they be worried?"

"Because they are our parents and they care about us," Armie explains matter of factly. "Besides, when you never have a real relationship and suddenly find yourself a guy you can barely stay away from, people are gonna be surprised and intrigued. They want to get to know him, make sure he is a good guy and that he cares about you."

"God, that's horrible."

"Is it?"

She sighs, tucking a stray strand of hair behind her ear.

"I get that they are only doing this because they care about and just want what´s best for me, but I also can acknowledge how fucking awkward this whole thing is."

"Well, I guess we're finally gonna have a family dinner like the ones in the movies. Who do you think it's gonna get a splash of wine on their faces?"

"Oh, I see you're using humor to deal with all of this, huh?"

"What other option do I have?," he shrugs, a little smile on the corner of his lips. "Worse case scenario, dad is gonna find out I slept with Timothée and is gonna ask me to step down from the CEO position."

"He would never do that."

"Hum, he's quite strict when it comes to work relationships. Even someone like you, who´s never there at the company or even wants to hear about it knows."

"Yes, I know what he thinks about bosses getting involved with employees and clients, but you´re his son and Timothée´s not just a fuck, he´s the guy you´re in love with. I say dad will be understanding, even if it takes him some time to get his head around it."

Armie shrugs, taps his fingers on the granite counter and then sighs, pushing himself up. He checks the quiche on the oven, turns on his heels and heads to the living room, picking up a couple of papers and his Ipad. He walks back to the kitchen and sits beside Anna, sliding some of the papers to her, who smiles widely as she sees what it is.

"Timothée and I started working on your project, I have high expectations for it."

"I knew he was the best person for the job, I can already see how great your talents combined will be."

"I'm glad you're enjoying it, but there's still a lot to be done."

"It's okay, I´m patient."

"No, you´re not."

She shrugs. "No, I´m not, but I can pretend to be."

Armie laughs, nudges her gently and then slides the Ipad, flipping through pages of references and sketches he has done, explaining to her what is that he had in mind and how things are gonna be developed.

  
  


* * *

It's Sunday night and while Timothée sits on the floor of his living room, his laptop open and a large glass of Coke resting on the coffee table, he can hear music coming from one of the apartments in the downstairs floor. He often finds himself distracted, singing along to the music instead of focusing on the task at hand, in this case both of the projects he has been assigned by Armie. 

The Notre Dame project is mostly done, just a few things that need to be perfected and rearranged, while Anna´s project is just now blossoming, ideas flooding his head every single minute. He moves his eyes around the coffee table, searching for his sketchbook, which he eventually finds on the couch, open in a random page. 

He flips through it, trying to find the page he used the previous day while having lunch with Armie, the notes and sketches of their ideas all there, waiting to be put into use. He smiles once he finally finds it, slides his finger through it and nods his head, moving his eyes back to the laptop, editing one of the artworks he has open on his Photoshop.

With a sigh, Timothée reaches out for his glass, takes a sip of Coke and rolls on his shoulder, trying to ease out the knots that have formed on his muscles. He moves around, his butt already numb from staying in the same position for so long. As he pushes himself up, ready to head over to the kitchen and find himself something to eat -or at least something he could cook in about five minutes-, the doorbell rings.

He frowns, glances at the door over his shoulder and waits until it rings again to walk over to it, unlocking it to reveal Chloe and Jackson standing there, she holding a bottle of wine and him a large box of pizza. He smiles, opens the door wider and takes the pizza box in his hand as Jackson walks past him, taking a peek inside, the smell of pepperoni suddenly filling up the apartment.

He rushes to the coffee table, saves everything he had it open, closes the laptop and tosses it to the couch along with his sketchbook and notepad, making up enough space for him and his friends to eat at the coffee table. From the living room, he watches Chloe reach for three wine glasses on the cupboard and reaches for his own slice of pizza, taking a huge bite of it, the warm and chewy texture divine.

"You guys got here at the exact right moment," he says with his mouthful, leaning back against the couch as Jackson opens the bottle of wine. "I was just about to go get something to eat, but I'm fairly sure there isn't anything edible in this apartment right now."

"Judging by your cupboard, you´re in desperate need to go grocery shopping," Chloe says, sliding the glasses over to Jackson, who fills each one of them. "There´s only mac´n´cheese, pancake mix and coffee."

"Sounds good enough to me."

Chloe chuckles, shaking her head. "Your coach would love to hear you say that, Jack."

"Thank God he isn't here and you don't even know which way the basketball court is, right?"

"You underestimate me, my friend," she smirks and Jackson rolls his eyes, reaching for a slice of pizza for himself. "Anyway, what were you up to?," she asks, nodding into Timothée´s direction.

"I was trying to get some work done," he says in between bites. "Now that I have two projects underway, I kind of have a lot to go through and can´t really waste any minute."

"You think you can handle two projects at a time?"

"I have to," he shrugs. "I committed myself to these projects, now I gotta do everything I can to finish them. Notre Dame is almost complete, but we just started working on Anna´s brand and I want to make sure this is my best work to date, you know? With her last name, she will attract a lot of buzz once she finally launches her brand, so whoever is working alongside her will get recognition."

"You can get some nice attraction from this, can´t you?," Jackson wonders and Timothée nods slowly. "This might actually be your big break in the graphic design world."

"Which is why I need to be on my best when working on this project."

"But you´re not alone on it," Chleo chimes in, cleaning the corners of her mouth. "You and Armie have to find a way to match all your ideas, it must be really difficult."

"Not as difficult as it sounds, actually," he shrugs. "We have been able to work fine so far, both of us giving ideas and listening to one another´s inputs. I guess the hardest part is make sure whoever looks at what we are creating immediately thinks of Anna. Whatever we do, has to have her personality and essence behind it."

"I bet Jackson can help you with that."

"I could," he leans his elbows on the table, sipping on his wine. "But I'm fairly sure her brother knows her better than I´ll ever do. From what I heard, those two have been inseparable ever since birth, so if Armie is on the job, Timothée doesn't really need me."

"You have a point there, but you also see her differently than Armie does, so yeah, your input could be quite interesting for the project."

"Okay then, I´ll help with whatever you need."

"Oh," Chloe squeals all of a sudden, an excited look in her eyes as she nudges Jackson on the shoulder. "Have you told him the news already?"

"Chloe..."

"What news?"

"He was talking to Anna earlier today and apparently, her parents want to invite him over for dinner."

"Woah," Timothée glances at Jackson, his eyes wide as his friend looks down, clearly trying to control his blush. "Meeting the parents already? You ready for that, big guy?"

"It's just a thought, alright? Apparently her step-mother asked Armie about me, so her father suggested that we all have dinner together, but so far that's just an idea, nothing more."

"If it does come through, can I please come with you?," Timothée asks, clearly mocking his friend. "I'd love to see the look on your face as you meet the parents of your millionaire girlfriend."

"You already know them."

"I´ve seen her father, who´s one of my bosses, twice. I don't consider that knowing him, Jack."

"Well, either way, it seems like the man loves you."

"Tim managed to get the whole family to fall for him," Chloe smirks and Timothée opens his mouth to say something, but resorts to stuffing his mouth with even more pizza.

* * *

Monday comes in a flash and when Timothée least expects, he is already walking down the sidewalk towards the Hammer building, his backpack hanging from one shoulder, while on his other arm he holds a folder and a book. He has his sunglasses on, the weirdly warm weather making people wander through the streets of New York in much more lighter clothes. 

He looks to his sides, crosses the street and squirms himself through the crowd that gathers around the square in front of their office building. He spots Megan by Greg´s coffee stand, notices she is not wearing as much makeup as she is used to and her hair is up in a bun, which he has never seen before and frowns.

He rushes over to her, waving slightly as she glances up and spots him, a warm smile spreading across her lips. He slides a hand across her shoulder, giving her a sideways hug, plants a kiss on her cheek and shakes his head as she offers him a sip of her coffee, which seems to be steaming hot. 

"How you doing?"

"I´m doing alright, considering everything."

"How's your father doing?," he asks just as they make their way past the building´s entry, the lobby filled with people. "I wanted to text you over the weekend, but I had so much to do, I kept pushing back and ended up forgetting. Which does make me sound like an asshole, but..."

"Hey, don't sweat it," she smiles, pressing the elevator button. "I don't expect people to simply leave everything behind just to tend to me. And I know you got two important projects on your hand now, so I get that you´re busy working on them and when you're not, you probably just want to relax. Am I right?"

"Yes, you are," he chuckles, holding the elevator door open for her to walk in. "But your father, how is him?"

"He had to go through surgery yesterday, but he's doing fine."

"Oh man, I was hoping it wouldn't come to this."

"Don´t worry, it wasn't anything major, although the hospital bill might make it look otherwise."

"Was it too expensive?," as she nods, Timothée shakes his head, a loud sigh escaping him. "This fucking country, I swear to God."

"Tell me about it."

"Are you guys gonna be able to pay for everything?," he asks, slightly embarrassed to ask such a thing. "Because I might not have much, but if you need anything, I can help."

"That's very kind of you, Green Eyes, but it won't be necessary. Armie already paid for all our expenses at the hospital."

"What?"

She nods, chuckling at the look of surprise on Timothée´s face.

"He called me yesterday morning asking how my dad was and when I told him there was no way to escape surgery, he said he would be paying for everything. I tried to say no, but it was one of those things he wouldn't take a no for an answer."

"That´s...," Timothée trails off, at a complete loss of words. He knew Armie was a good man, someone who cared about the people around him, but he couldn't imagine he would go that far for an employee. Although it was clear by now that Megan was more than just an employee. "That's very nice of him."

"That's Armie. He will do whatever he can to help the people around him, but he often doesn't like others to know, so if you could just keep your mouth shut about this."

"Don´t worry," Timothée chuckles, mimicking a zipper on his lips. "My lips are sealed, I won't tell a soul what he did."

"Yeah, something tells me you´re good at keeping secrets."

"What is that supposed to mean?," he frowns and Megan simply shrugs. 

"Don´t mind me, I´m just being silly," she winks, leading him out of the elevator. She takes a look around the office, then turns back to Timothée, handing the extra cup she has in her hands to him. "Can you give this one to Armie? I need to talk to Tessa and he´s kind of waiting for his coffee."

"No worries, I have to talk to him anyway," he takes the cup in his hand, gives her a warm smile and then walks to his desk, dumping his things on top of it and taking only the file and the cup of coffee with him. He stops by the door, knocks on it and waits until he hears Armie´s voice telling him to come on in; he opens the door, taking a quick look inside the office before stepping in. "I hope I'm not interrupting you."

"No, it's okay," he assures him, his blue eyes locked on him as he taps a pen on the desk. Timothée quickly notices he has dumped his suit jacket and the sleeves of his shirt are rolled to his elbows, exposing some skin. No one should have an attractive forearm. "Can I help you with anything?"

"First things first, Megan asked me to give you your coffee," he says while handing Armie the cup, smiling as he lets out a chuckle and thanks him. "And I also wanted to show you some of the ideas I had for Anna´s project, see what you think of them and how we can move forward."

"Sure thing," Armie nods, takes a sip of his coffee and points to the chair across from his desk. "Sit down, I´m really curious to see what you´ve come up with."

"I hope you like it."

"I haven't seen anything from you I haven't liked," he says matter of factly, his voice deep and hoarse, his eyes so penetrating, Timothée immediately feels a shiver run down his spine. He swallows thickly, grips tightly onto the file on his hand and then sits down, trying to keep himself calm so he can explain to Armie exactly how he came up with his ideas.

After all they have been through, Timothée wonders when he will be able to stand beside Armie without feeling like a lovesick school boy.

* * *

It's almost seven when Armie finally turns off his computer, a loud sigh escaping him as he leans back against the leather chair of his office, his eyes wandering around the place. It's quiet outside his office, a hint that he is all alone at the company by now, while outside he hears the buzz of the city. He pushes himself up, stretches out his arms and fixes his pants, walking over to the large windows, from where he can see the city in all its glory. He smiles, reaches for his phone in the back pocket and checks his messages and emails, although he doesn't give much importance to any of them.

He yawns, runs his fingers through his hair and walks back to his desk, collecting his belongings and shoving them all inside his backpack, which he swings over his shoulder on his way out of the office. The first thing he notices is the emptiness of Megan´s desk, a small smile on the corner of his lips as he thinks about all the stress she is currently going through; he then realizes there's still a few lights on and frowns when he sees Timothée sitting at his desk, completely absorbed into his work. 

He fixes the strap of his backpack and walks over to him, arms crossed as he leans against the desk, eyeing him with curiosity. It takes a moment, but Timothée eventually notices his stare and looks up, his cheeks turning a bright pink.

"What are you still doing here, Timothée?"

"I have a school project to hand in tomorrow, but I had forgotten about it completely until like two hours ago, so I thought I could stay here until it was finished."

"And is it finished?"

"Not quite, but I managed to get a lot done, which is good."

"Do you plan on staying here? Because if you do, I need to talk to the doorman and the security guards, make sure they don´t lock you in," as he says this, Armie notices Timothée´s eyes going wide with worry and it's clear he didn't think about the possibility of being stuck in the office. Armie scoffs, shakes his head and sits on the edge of the desk, his eyes scanning the project on Timothée´s computer. "What exactly is this project about?"

"Young man has a bookstore, which is on the verge of closing, we need to come up with a new marketing campaign that will attract the eyes of the public, bring in new customers and perhaps even investors who might see some potential in the place."

"And what is the part you're struggling with?"

"I´m not really struggling, I´m just not entirely sure I´m going in the right direction, you know? I have two pages of a possible marketing pitch and whenever I read it, it feels like I´m going in such a mediocre route, it's kind of annoying."

"Mind if I take a look?"

"Are you sure? I don't want to give you even more work than you already have to deal with."

"Look, I always thought a boss shouldn't just be the guy who calls the shots, you know? I need to be an example, a mentor of sorts to the people that are working for me and if I can help them in any way is my job to do so. Like I said before, your good work is the best marketing campaign this company gets, so if you do good, even in your college work, that means we are doing good."

"You were born for this, weren't you?"

Armie shrugs, a little chuckle escaping him.

"My father likes to think so."

"Well, I think so too."

Armie smiles, his eyes lingering on Timothée´s for a minute more before he clears his throat and gets up, circling the desk and reaching for the closest chair, which he places right beside Timothée before taking a seat.

"So, let me see your pitch and I´ll tell you if I would be interested in this bookstore after reading it or not."

"You sure?"

"Just show me the damn thing, Timothée."

"Okay, okay, here it is," he says, sliding the computer closer to Armie, who glances at him with a smile before focusing his eyes on the screen.

* * *

Timothée shuts the door to his apartment, dropping his backpack down on the floor next to it as he kicks off his sneakers. He leans against the wall, his eyes wandering around the dark apartment as he smiles. His eyes fall upon the clock by the kitchen, which strikes nine thirty and bites his lip, shaking his head as he tries to process the fact he spent the last two hours and half with Armie. 

He went through his marketing pitch, read every single word of it and then made sure to highlight the strong points of it as well as the things that could be improved, small changes that would make his project much more appealing to the public and therefore for his teachers. And even after he explained it all, Armie remained there, helped Timothée throughout the entire thing and made sure he finished his project.

By the time they left the company, Timothée didn't even have enough words to thank Armie for his help, but the man wasn't done yet and made sure to drive him home, taking the time to talk more about Anna´s project, which was slowly starting to take shape.

With a sigh of contentment, utterly surprised with how incredible his day turned out to be, Timothée pushes himself off of the wall and heads to the bedroom, taking off his clothes and tossing them on the armchair before walking into the bathroom. The water is lukewarm, cascading down his shoulders and relaxing his body, which is in desperate need of some rest. He runs his hands through his body, feels his stomach in knots as his hand inches closer to his cock, which is already starting to harden.

He bites his lip, closes his eyes and inhales deeply, his hand wrapping around his cock and slowly moving up and down the length of it, causing little grunts to escape him. It has been nearly a month since he had sex and his body was starting to crave for it, but he also knew that was a huge chance of the experiencing not living up to expectations considering the last person he was with was Armie. He gasps, a shiver running down his spine as he allows the memories of that night to come back, the way Armie´s beard would brush against his skin, how his lips left a trail of wet kisses down his back or how his hand felt when he playfully slapped his ass, the noise echoing through the empty bathroom.

He leans against the tiled wall, drops his head and moans, his strokes getting quicker, his cock throbbing against his palm while droplets of precum ooze out of his slit. He tries to remember his smell, the musky scent that emanated from him and mixed with the sweat of their bodies, the way his cock throbbed inside of him and how he gained speed with each thrust of his hips. No matter what happened, Timothée knew that night with Armie would always be engraved in his mind.

He moans loudly, Armie´s name leaving his lips as he cums all over the bathroom floor. He pants, runs a hand through his hair and then reaches out for some soap, making sure to get himself clean. After a couple more minutes, Timothée steps out of the shower, a towel wrapped around his hips as he walks to the bedroom, fishing for some old boxers on a drawer to put it on. He takes his phone from his jeans pockets, climbs in bed and unlocks it, scrolling through the messages he sees there, most of them coming from Chloe and Pauline. He replies to them, checks his Instagram and Facebook, likes some posts of his friends and is just about to toss the phone to the bedside table when it vibrates in his hand, Armie´s name popping up on the notification bar. He cocks an eyebrow, his heart already pounding in his chest as he clicks on it, watching as his message fills up the screen.

**_< armie>_ ** _ I know you´re probably fed up with the project already _

_ But I have found an article that might be good for you _

_ And perhaps even help in future projects like this one _

Timothée smiles, once again amused by how Armie writes his texts, which is unlike anyone else he texts with.

**_< timothee>_ ** _ u didnt have to do this _

_ but thank u _

_ not only for the article _

_ but for all the help u gave me tonight _

_ i truly appreciate _

**_< armie>_ ** _ I´ve told you already _

_ If you look good, the company looks good, therefore, I look good _

_ Deep down, I´m just being selfish _

**_< timothee>_ ** _ somehow i find that hard to believe _

Timothée bites his lip, leans back against the headboard and sighs, eagerly waiting for the next message, which comes just seconds after. At that particular moment, Timothée still feels slightly weird to be texting with his boss late at night, but what he didn't know was that such a feeling would soon disappear and their late night conversations would only become more frequent as the week went by.

  
  



End file.
